


That’s Christmas To Me

by RebellingStagnation



Series: Geronimo Series [15]
Category: Darkwing Duck (Cartoon 1991), DuckTales (Cartoon 1987), Goof Troop (Cartoon)
Genre: 25 Days of Fic, Action/Adventure, But then it all turns out okay, Christmas, Family Feels, Gen, It gets dark there in the middle, Presumed Dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:28:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 57,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21625336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RebellingStagnation/pseuds/RebellingStagnation
Summary: Darkwarrior Duck and Christine (Nega-Gosalyn) team up with Posi-Ana to take over the Prime Universe. Luckily (or not so luckily), it’s during the holidays so the heroes are already gathered together. So much for a quiet relaxing holiday. Rated M for Negaduck’s language. Final installment in the Geronimo Series.
Relationships: Drake Mallard & Gosalyn Mallard, Drake Mallard & Gosalyn Mallard & Launchpad McQuack, Gosalyn Mallard & Negaduck, Gosalyn Mallard/Max Goof
Series: Geronimo Series [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/467926
Comments: 119
Kudos: 44





	1. God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen

This world was dark, even for her tastes.

Physically, that was.

She could not yet speak for the metaphorical; she had only just arrived, after all, and rumors were nothing to base one's perceptions on.

Searchlights were the primary source of light, their long beams stretching up into the dark sky, making a long sweep from one end of the metropolis to the other. If there was a moon or stars, she couldn't tell. The searchlights were too bright to allow anything in the vast vacuum of space to shine down onto the world below.

Her boots crunched on the newly fallen snow, a satisfying snap snap snap as she made her way down the street. There was no question as to the direction she was headed. The building in the center of town was the one to which the searchlights were fixed, giving off its position with all the finesse of a disco ball.

Darkwarrior Duck might be the most fearsome of all the Darkwings in the multiverse, but he still had the same ego. The same lack of sense when it came to anything involving stealth or sophistication.

At least there was order here. Her simmering irritation was soothed at seeing how precisely the citizens moved about. Crossed the street at crosswalks. Cars merged with clear signals for at least 300 feet before changing lanes. Everyone stuck to their side of the sidewalk, eyes forward without any sort of technology out to distract them.

It was because of this — this enforcement of rules and regulations — that she was walking down this sidewalk to begin with.

She crossed the street with a few citizens and continued marching toward the building that set her teeth on edge. On her own. No one else was heading anywhere close to this part of town.

Dark ebony robots, the shapes of which resembled Darkwarrior's head with claws extending out below their beaks hovered before her. What a terrible design. Their only option for movement was strictly airborn since they had no legs. And it seemed rather arrogant to shape something after one's own features.

Then again.

Look at their designer.

"Identification, please," came the modulated voice. Weak and wavering compared to those in her own world.

She stared unblinkingly at the robot. "Ana Di Lengo."

The robot hovered, bobbing up and down gently, completely silent for a few moments. "Error. Death records exist for one Ana Di Lengo. Identification, please."

She sent the bot — and whoever was watching through it's cameras — a thin smile. "Death records exist for the Ana in this universe perhaps. I, however, am not from here."

The robot fell into silence again. And moved aside as the door behind it swung open.

Complete blackness yawned before her, the building imposing and endless. She stepped through without a moments hesitation.

It was all for show, this grandiose structure. The security out front meant to intimidate the visitor and give them some idea of who they were about to deal with.

But Ana was not intimidated.

The blackness inside was not so complete that she couldn't see where she was going. The lobby was empty, a colossal curved staircase curling upwards that took her to the second level. Into a rounded antechamber, which also was empty.

The walls were fitted with large panels of glass, windows revealing the sprawling city around them. Pale snow blanketed the streets and buildings, dulling the lights that tried their best to illuminate the darkness. In the center of this rounded chamber was a circular platform, along one side of which were stacked rows of computer monitors like bricks in the facade of a building. They showed the city from different angles, some stationary shots evidently from fixed cameras and others moving, likely from robots on patrol, sending back their feed.

Within this half-circle of monitors sat one solitary chair. Padded. With low arms and a wide back. Almost wide enough to obscure the figure that was sitting in it. Almost.

The room was not so empty after all.

The chair was facing away from her. But she didn't need to see his face to know who was lying in wait.

"You're very far from home," came a purr out of the darkness.

Ana came to stand at the edge of the platform, hands tucked behind her back and head held high. "Turn around and face me, Drake. Where are your manners?"

The figure stiffened either at her tone or at the casual name she called him. Whichever the reason, Ana felt her beak twist into a triumphant smirk.

She allowed it to fall as the chair swiveled around. No need to show off.

Within the plush upholstery sat a familiar figure. Wearing the ridiculous purple outfit with a large brimmed fedora in a matching shade. He had foregone the button down suit and substituted it with something akin to a jumpsuit that was belted at the hips. Military grade boots — steel toed by the looks of them — would have blended into the darkness if they hadn't been polished to a shine. The infantile cape was secured around his shoulders, tucked underneath sizable spiked shoulder armor, making him all the more imposing and broad.

There was still a mask secured around his face, but his eyes glowed red. It was into these that Ana stared, unabashed and unafraid.

As Darkwarrior Duck sized her up.

She in her own black uniform. Much crisper and more impressive than his spiked armor. Drake was many things; subtle was not one of them, no matter the universe.

"Are we going to discuss why you're here? Or is this a staring contest?" he asked, his voice carefully controlled and giving away nothing. She was almost impressed. _Almost_.

"Don't joke with me, boy," Ana snapped. "You can guess why I'm here, surely."

Darkwarrior leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled in his militaristic gloves. "It must be something big if the great Ana Di Lengo traveled all the way from the Posiverse to visit me."

"Oh, yes, bravo," Ana intoned, glaring at Darkwarrior down her beak. "Come, come, Drake. If we are to be allies, I must be able to trust that you can put two and two together on your own."

He frowned. "My name is Darkwarrior."

Ana narrowed her eyes a fraction. "Not to me."

Darkwarrior eyed her.

She let the silence linger.

Silence is a funny thing. Everyone is quick to break it. It makes people uncomfortable, you see. The lack of noise makes them believe they need to be filling the void with _something_. If you stay quiet long enough, your counterpart will inevitably start talking.

"Allies, you and I?" Darkwarrior asked. "Against whom?"

Case in point.

Silence: a leader's most effective tool.

"Against the monstrosity that is Gosalyn Mallard Prime." Saying the name was like a bad taste on her tongue. Gosalyn Mallard had come into Ana's world to be put on trial and punished for her rash actions of traveling around the multiverse. She had not only escaped her lifelong sentence, but had incentivized the people of Ana's world — the Posiverse — to uprise and fight against the rules that had been put in place to protect them. Even Ana's second in command, her own son, had gone against her and joined ranks with the Gosalyn from their own world.

Gosalyn Mallard Prime had ruined _everything_.

And Ana would show that girl the justice that was in the wake of such haphazard and reckless rule breaking.

Ana took a breath.

Patience.

All in good time.

Darkwarrior raised an eyebrow, still peering over his steepled fingers. "She has a big support system. To go against her is to go against them all."

"Hence why I am here."

Smirking, Darkwarrior leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You need me."

"And your robots. When going up against repeat rule breakers, it's best to come prepared with the full force of the law."

Darkwarrior Duck was grinning fully now, a cunning curl of his beak.

Another voice, however, came from the darkness. A slighter sound, weaker. "We can offer our full forces."

Ana glanced to where the voice had come from and felt her fingers twitch at the sight, ready to grab a weapon. But she stayed her hand.

It was another Gosalyn. This one brown haired and softer. More reserved. She seemed to have some semblance of rules and etiquette, her hands hanging at her sides and her expression one of respect as she surveyed Ana with her green eyes.

Ana pushed aside her confusion — the entire point of the Darkwarrior universe was that a Gosalyn didn't exist, after all, so how one could be here was mind numbing — and inclined her head. "Together, I am confident that we can accomplish our goal."

"No violence," this brown-haired Gosalyn said as she stepped fully out of the shadows and stood beside Darkwarrior.

Ana studied them together, the dark uncompromising version of her son and this girl who shouldn't exist. Really, neither of them should exist. This universe was a blight on an otherwise perfect system.

But, desperate times.

Ana bowed her head. "No violence," she echoed.

The brown haired Gosalyn nodded. "Then we will help you bring order to the Prime Universe."

Ana sent a thin smile to the girl. "Might I ask who you are?"

"Christine."

Still a Gosalyn, but going by a different name. Interesting. Ana would need to study her records to find out where this one had come from, for it surely wasn't here. Could not be here.

"You have a bright future ahead of you, my dear." Ana looked between the two. "Shall we settle on a date?"

Darkwarrior finally stood, gesturing off to the side. "We can use my consulting room."

"There's less potential of being overheard in there," Christine offered, a smile gracing her beak as she led the way.

Ana nodded once in agreement before following the impossible girl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go again! Another 25 days of Geronimo fic headed your way! 
> 
> I did want to take a moment to apologize for not being as active in the duck fandom lately. Things got very crazy very fast, and things are about to get EVEN crazier. While I don’t know how much I’ll be able to participate in the future, or even write, I thought why not go out with a bang, right? One last Christmas hurrah! I hope you enjoy!


	2. White Winter Hymnal

"Really, I can't express to you how grateful I am!" Dr. Sputterspark proclaimed as he lurched down the stairs into the abandoned subway station, stamping snow off his boots on the way.

Lyn Waddlemeyer took the opportunity to roll her eyes before she pulled her goggles, and the kerchief tied around her face, off. She stuffed both of them into the pockets of her scarlet biker jacket. "Yep. Heard you the first time. And the second." She peered down the subway tunnel, muttering under her breath, "And the third and the fourth."

"I just," Dr. Sputterspark all but ripped off his own pair of goggles and kerchief, a blinding smile revealed to the darkened underground, "I've heard tell of your amazing adventures. The Crimson Quackette!" He chuckled.

Lyn leapt down onto the tracks and he immediately followed suit, stumbling a little upon impact. She afforded him a brief glance to make sure he hadn't broken his damn leg before strolling down the tunnel.

Dr. Sputterspark followed, bounding behind her with the energy of a puppy. He continued to gush, "I never imagined that you'd ever help _me_ , you know? You free those who have been locked up by the government, those who don't have any hope of escape from the Barricades. You give them a second lease on life. Give them freedom and the chance to be everything they want to be, not just what they've been told to be. But for those of us trapped in the Inner Circle, well, we never anticipated that your reach could go so far.

"But look at me now!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms out wide and spinning in a circle. "I'm free! The Crimson Quackette came to my rescue!"

Very much regretting the decision, even if he was the most prominent scientist in the government's Inner Circle and getting him on her side was one of the more brilliant strategic moves she'd made, Lyn opened the door leading to the utilities room and motioned Dr. Sputterspark inside. "You're welcome. Again."

Dr. Sputterspark afforded her a small bow before ducking inside and Lyn rolled her eyes heavenward once more before following him and locking the door behind her.

It was likely due to the darkness and the element of the unknown that kept Dr. Sputterspark silent as they made their way through the utilities room. He did, however, emit something like an excited squeal when Lyn opened the trap door which led to the underground tunnel to Eden, her secret society and home base. Lyn only just managed to bite down a frustrated groan as she followed him down into the tunnel, lit by golden lightbulbs strung along the passageway.

"How did you manage to siphon electricity down here?" Dr. Sputterspark said, running up to a nearby bulb and inspecting it as if it contained all the secrets of Eden and Lyn's masterplan.

"A lot of tunnels. And piping." Lyn pressed on, no longer caring if Dr. Sputterspark was following or singing love ballads to the lightbulbs. With how today was going, it wouldn't have surprised her to hear him break out into song.

But he did follow her, maybe humming something softly to himself, or maybe that was her imagination.

As they reached the end of the tunnel where the cavern opened up to reveal Eden carved out from the ground in a spherical shape, Dr. Sputterspark released a gasp. "It's more than I imagined it would be," he breathed.

"I'm surprised you know about it at all," Lyn said, climbing down the ladder that led into the city.

"Only rumors," Dr. Sputterspark said, quickly following Lyn while trying to keep his eyes on the grandeur of the brick and mortar buildings, the soft lighting from the lanterns installed along the walls, the cobblestone streets. "And only from the cells of criminals. The government believes this place is a fairy tale, stomps out any mention of it."

Satisfied that her enemies didn't want to believe in the full force of Eden and it's hidden ranks, Lyn marched into the city, occasionally nodding to someone when they called out to her. The merchants along the streets all surveyed Dr. Sputterspark from behind their carts with interest, their customers doing much the same. The curiosity surrounding the new recruit would linger for a few days until it dissolved into healthy suspicion. No one would fully trust him until he settled down more fully and his story started to circulate. There was something about learning someone's past traumas and trials that really brought people together.

Lyn led Dr. Sputterspark to the back end of town, where her little cottage lie nestled amongst the other buildings. The small brick house was unassuming, giving nothing away to the mess inside. They stepped into the front room-turned-workshop, which was littered with parts from bots and all of her tools. Dr. Sputterspark gasped again as he entered the building, eyes roving around the room with keen interest.

LP, the robot Lyn had reprogrammed to work with her rather than for the government, rolled over towards them, trilling something high pitched and musical. Lyn reached out to pat him on the head. "This is LP, my bot."

"You managed to figure out the coding?" Dr. Sputterspark asked, looking between Lyn and LP with wide eyes.

"Obviously," said Lyn with a long sigh.

Stellar walked through the kitchen door, a smile on his beak as he extended a hand. (Thank God for him because Lyn was at the end of her rope with this Sputterspark, essential government "robot expert" with a doctorate who could help turn the war in their favor or no.)

"I'm Stellar Mallard," he said. "You must be Dr. Sputterspark."

"Yes, indeed. I've heard of you!" Dr. Sputterspark said, a smile on his snout as he studied Stellar. "A police Sargent, once married to the Chancellor, though you're now divorced, and the father to the Adjudicator."

"He doesn't go by the Adjudicator anymore," Stellar said, his hands going to his hips, his smile still warm and open. Lyn didn't know how he managed to be so welcoming all the time. It must be exhausting.

"Oh, of course! That makes perfect sense. His betrayal of the government is the stuff of legend! Naturally, he would not want to go by his old title!" Dr. Sputterspark exclaimed, practically bouncing on his toes. "We aren't able to speak about it publicly, of course. Instructed not to give anyone the 'wrong idea' you understand, but there were whispers and rumors about him in any case. About what had happened. How he was the Chancellor's right-hand man, then he was arrested and went turncoat against her and all her ideals. Joined ranks with the infamous Crimson Quackette," here, Dr. Sputterspark turned to Lyn and _bowed again_ , "and is looking for ways to overthrow the regime. Is he here?" Dr. Sputterspark looked around the room as if Drake might appear out of thin air. "Will I get to meet him?"

"I assume so," said Stellar around a chuckle.

"I would very much like to shake his hand," Dr. Sputterspark said.

"Is that what you call it?" Lyn muttered, but the glare of disapproval from Stellar and the embarrassed blushing of Dr. Sputterspark were cut short by the arrival of Drake himself.

He clomped in — they were still teaching him how to be stealthy in his knee-length boots, which was an ordeal in itself since Drake had never had to worry about hiding from anything a day in his life — his arms full of heat lamps and packages of food.

"Reggie's having problems with his lamps again," Drake said, coming to a halt as he caught sight of Dr. Sputterspark. "You found him."

It wasn't a question.

"Yep," said Lyn as Stellar walked over and helped take some of the items out of Drake's arms.

Drake looked over to Lyn, something like worry swirling in those endlessly blue eyes, which still put Lyn on edge. She wasn't used to seeing worry on his face. "You're okay? You didn't run into any problems?"

Lyn shook her head, a warmth blossoming under her skin from seeing that worried look, which she valiantly ignored. "Your directions were perfect."

"She even knew all the security codes!" Dr. Sputterspark said excitedly.

"Because I created them," said Drake, his eyes lingering over Lyn's face before he was yanked forward, Dr. Sputterspark pumping his now freed hand enthusiastically. His long navy blue overcoat swayed around his calves in the sudden movement, his oversized cuffs dwarfing their joined hands. Underneath his coat was a pair of pants in the same shade, a teal double breasted vest embroidered with white swirls of thread, a mauve shirt, and those gray boots he still couldn't quite move in with any fluidity.

Lyn thought Drake looked ridiculous. Not as ridiculous as when he wore an all white outfit, but the man clearly had no sense of styling. Stellar had told Lyn to let it go; this was the first time in decades when Drake was allowed to wear what he wanted instead of a uniform. It was, essentially, the first time in his life when he got to make his own decisions instead of following orders.

It didn't hide the fact that Drake still looked dumb, but Lyn chose the better part of valor and let him wear what he wanted. Without _much_ complaint.

He'd adapted fairly well, all things considered. It hadn't been a popular decision, letting him into their underground society; Drake had arrested and tried most of the people who lived in Eden. But he had been remorseful and willing to make reparations, ready to learn from his mistakes, move toward the future, and problem solve. He had taken over Stellar's job of visiting the citizens to make repairs, deliver goods, and hear about what needed to be fixed or improved. The citizens had slowly started to trust him as he went out into the town more and more, Stellar and Lyn no longer needed as bodyguards to make sure people didn't try to exact revenge.

"It's an honor, sir, an absolute honor, to meet you!" Dr. Sputterspark gushed.

Drake gave a smile that was more on the side of embarrassed rather than Stellar's easy confident one. "Th-thank you. Um, we _have_ met before, though."

"At functions and in official capacities, yes, but not like _this_."

"Not when you were his _hero_ ," Lyn said, her tone only slightly sarcastic. Which was a big improvement for her.

Dr. Sputterspark dropped Drake's hand and shuffled uncomfortably. Scratching the back of his neck, he stammered, "I-I mean… I, um, didn't have much of an opinion of you when you were the Adjudicator. But now… you're a legend."

Drake cleared his throat and closed the door behind him before walking across the room, still holding onto a heat lamp. He placed it down on a workbench where Stellar had piled the others. "How are the offices now? In terms of who we might need to watch out for?"

"Well, right now, it's a bit of a ghost town what with the Chancellor gone to another universe. I think she's trying to fill your position, to be honest. No one here is making the cut—"

"Stop stop stop, go back," said Lyn. The room had gone completely still when Dr. Sputterspark had mentioned _another universe_ , Drake's hands still on the broken heat lamp, Stellar half way to the kitchen with the groceries. "The Chancellor went to another universe?"

"Um, yes."

"The Chancellor _herself_ is visiting a parallel universe?" Lyn asked, staring at Dr. Sputterspark unblinkingly.

Dr. Sputterspark glanced between all three of them and shrugged. "I mean, she'd been talking about it for awhile, so I'm not too surprised that she did it. She is always someone who keeps her word."

"Indeed," said Drake dully, setting the heat lamp down and crossing his arms over his chest.

"Why is she visiting another universe?" Stellar asked, his tone casual but his posture stiff.

Dr. Sputterpark glanced between the three of them, looking supremely confused. "Like I said, I think she's looking for another Adjudicator. There was talk of a dark warrior, who I assume is her top candidate, and how they would work together to bring justice to… some prime real estate."

"Universe?" Lyn pressed, stepping in front of Dr. Sputterspark and very nearly reaching out to grasp his shoulders. She refrained by shoving her hands into her jacket pockets. "The _Prime Universe_? Is that where she wants to bring justice?"

"I don't know," Dr. Sputterspark said, looking towards the two Mallards with hesitation on his face. "You have to understand, it's not odd for her to talk about bringing order. That's usually _all_ she talks about."

Lyn looked back at Stellar. Seeing that steely look in his eyes, she nodded and glanced back to Dr. Sputterspark. "Are you any good with electricity and lighting instruments?"

Dr. Sputterspark's eyes sparkled. "Why, that's my speciality!"

"Great, so take those lights back to the greenhouse," she pointed to the heat lamps, "and you can meet Reggie who will show you around Eden after you've fixed his lights for him."

"I can take you to the greenhouse in a few minutes," offered Stellar.

Lyn beckoned Drake over, saying, "We'll just be a moment, Dr. Sputterspark. Then we'll get going. Feel free to grab whatever tools you think you might need." She all but shoved Drake through to the kitchen, knocking the younger Mallard into the older.

Once they were alone, Lyn faced Stellar and Drake, who were wearing identical expressions of grim resolve.

"He's not a very reliable source of information," Drake said in a low voice. "He has a pretty terrible memory."

"He remembered enough to tell us that the Chancellor isn't in her offices," Lyn pointed out. "Whether he's telling the truth or not, this is worth looking into."

"I agree," Stellar said. "But do we break into the government buildings to confirm the information and try to figure out her plan, or do we act?"

Lyn considered. "I don't want to waste time poking around here. Who knows if any of the other officials will tell us anything?" Standing straight, she clapped her hands together once. "This is what we're gonna do: we'll split up. You two go to the Prime Universe and warn them about what's coming. I'll go to Tony's universe. He might be able to help pinpoint where the Chancellor traveled to specifically so we get a better idea of what she's planning."

Stellar nodded, already heading out into the living room and calling for Dr. Sputterspark. They heard the doctor spouting more nonsense and compliments before the front door opened and closed, leaving the two of them alone.

Lyn looked at Drake. "You good?"

Drake met her eyes. "I guess I knew this day was always coming. When I'd go up against them. It just came faster than I thought it would."

"You've been training," Lyn pointed out. "It's not like you're going into this unprepared."

"I know." Drake stuffed his hands into his coat pockets. "It's just… I don't…."

"Look," said Lyn, "I'm not great with the emotional... anything. Stellar's better with that stuff." Walking back into the front room, she began grabbing the materials she needed to build the portals which would transport them to their respective universes. "If you want to talk so you can process whatever's in your head, that's fine, but I'm not gonna respond."

LP rolled over and Lyn set him to work, having him configure another multiverse portal — her first one had been destroyed in an attempt to keep her tech from the government — as she strapped her goggles over her eyes and began welding metal together.

Drake ended up staying in the room with her, occasionally handing over a tool or piece of machinery that she needed. If he talked, she would never know. But it was kind of nice to not be alone.


	3. Mary, Did You Know?

Negaduck had spent most of his life dodging Christmas. Setting it on fire. Forbidding anyone from celebrating it. Deliberately ignoring traditions. Encouraging his cronies to commit as many crimes as they could during the brightly lit time of year.

Until Gosalyn.

That was a pretty accurate summary of his existence.

_Until Gosalyn_.

She'd single handedly changed him. By letting him be himself and accepting all he was. Asking about his morals, not to challenge him, but for her own edification. Standing steadfast and not leaving, no matter how he behaved or what side of himself was revealed. Slowly bringing in her circle of friends and family to where they, however begrudgingly, accepted him.

Which was why the Lord of the Negaverse, leader of the Fearsome Five, the terrifying and violent Masked Menace was decorating Town Square in Christmas decorations. Not just _any_ Christmas decorations, the same oversized sickeningly coordinated decorations from his childhood.

The tree was so large that Negaduck needed to drive a construction-sized crane to assemble it. Which, admittedly, was his favorite part. Driving anything that was big enough to take up the entire street gave him such a thrill that he sometimes looked for excuses to take it out for a spin.

Decorating the city had been his Christmas gift to Gosalyn last year. Showing her how completely he had embraced the holiday and, thus, her and the changes she'd brought into his life. Not like she needed anything physical to prove his love for her, but it was still a "nice gesture." And she'd been so damned excited about it that Negaduck knew this was now standard procedure for all the holidays to come.

Which gave him a reason to keep the crane on hand, so it really wasn't so bad.

Pushing and pulling the levers in the cab of his beloved crane, he positioned the top piece of the pre-decorated tree, complete with golden star, and slotted it in place. The Christmas tree was now standing fully assembled. Turning off the engine, Negaduck swung open the door and stood on the step, surveying his handiwork.

The four main streets that met in the center of town were decked out to their fullest extent. One street was bisected into the two traditional Christmas colors, red along one side and green along the other. The snowflakes and large bulbous ornaments hung suspended in between the buildings down the next. There were massive swirling metal frames that glistened with white string lights stretching down the third. Lattices and wreaths wove around the last street that led up to the Christmas tree.

Just like last year.

And all of the holidays of his youth.

These decorations had been created and set up for Ana, his mother. She, too, had loved Christmas. So much so that her husband — Stellar, Negaduck's father — had these decorations made specifically for her. Negaduck remembered Ana barely able to contain her excitement when they visited downtown each year for the tree lighting ceremony. Standing in the bitter cold, which seemed to touch Ana not at all, they would watch the city light up against the darkness pressing in around them.

Resting one arm on the open door and the other on the hood of the crane, Negaduck gazed out over his kingdom. The brightly decorated Town Square and the looming black of the Negaverse beyond.

What a perfect metaphor for Negaduck himself. All dark and danger on the outside, but once the treacherous and deadly streets had been successfully navigated, all traps and pitfalls avoided, a softer interior was found, created by his mother and reawakened by Gosalyn. He would never share this truth about himself with anyone —he'd always deny that there was anything _soft_ about him — but it was something he could no longer deny to himself.

Eyes wandering over the golden lights shining below, Negaduck wondered if his mother had known. Had any sort of inkling as to what her baby boy would grow up to be. Could she possibly have seen the darkness in his soul? What would she think of him now?

Her small boy, whom she had cuddled had grown up not as the pillar of goodness and strength that she had wanted him to be. He was not the upstanding citizen who fought for those who could not fight for themselves. He wasn't the selfless hero who jumped into the line of fire to shield those around him.

No.

He was the devious mastermind behind all of the wrongdoing in St. Canard Prime. The overlord who ran the Negaverse with an iron fist. Ruthless and violent, he was fodder for nightmares, the bogey man in children's stories, the horror everyone in the Negaverse desperately tried to avoid.

Ana's sweet little Drakey whom she had tucked into bed each night, running her fingers over his downy cheeks and tweaking his small beak now had so much blood on his hands it was a wonder his feathers weren't permanently stained. He had wielded every weapon that was known in this world and several others, and not in self defense. Torn into people's homes and ripped their lives asunder. Shooting first and asking questions later.

When Ana had scooped him up, kissing his face, she had been kissing the face of a murderer. A tyrant. Public Enemy #2 (sometimes #1 if Dr. Slug went on vacation).

Surely, if she had known any of that, she wouldn't have loved Drakey as desperately as she had. She, too, would have been repulsed and would have moved heaven and earth to stay away from him. Would have spirited others away so they escaped his wrath.

Or perhaps she would have stuck around. Created a militia to fight against him. Would have attempted to talk sense into him, always of the opinion that he just needed to be reasoned with in order to break through and banish the darkness.

If only it were so easy.

This darkness was part of him, melding with his soul and as much linked to his identity as his name. It made him who he was. And while there were times he had to struggle with his self-loathing, he had to admit that he liked this lifestyle. He wouldn't have protected his villainous reign if it didn't have its perks.

Besides, Gosalyn loved him as he was, darkness and all.

If he'd never been a villain, he wouldn't have met her. Sure, maybe he'd have kept his own Gosalyn; maybe he and Christine could have tried to make something work and he wouldn't have had to go steal a Gosalyn from another universe to fall in love with, but hey. Life never was what you wanted it to be.

Sighing, Negaduck stood straight, taking one last sweeping glance of the city below, more darkness than light.

Maybe Mama _had_ known. And maybe he would be a disappointment now. But it didn't do to dwell on the past.

He had learned.

All he could do was move forward.

So he climbed back into his crane, turned it around, and drove down the street to park it on Avian Way before heading to the Prime Universe.

Where his holiday plans lie in wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the lyrics are the opposite of who and what Negaduck represents; that juxtaposition was too good to pass up.


	4. Making Christmas

Quackerjack had been lied to. His whole life long.

The magic word wasn't "please." The magic word wasn't even a word at all.

The magic _words_ (plural) came from Negaduck. And they were, in this exact order: "I'm spending the holidays in the Prime Universe. While I'm gone, you four are in charge of the Negaverse."

Honestly? Look to God.

Quackerjack had vibrated with excitement as the words had washed over him. All the possibilities of what he could accomplish in a universe where he was in charge danced through his head like the famed sugar plums of the season.

Technically, _technically_ , he was in charge _with_ Bushroot, Liquidator, and Megavolt. But, come on. Quackerjack was clearly the most sane amongst the four. Nope. Not that. Not _sane_. What was the word...? Oh, right! Ambitious. Quackerjack was clearly the most _ambitious_ amongst the four. So, the Negaverse would be theirs — read _his —_ for a week and a half.

Bushroot and Megavolt had immediately voiced their concerns to Negaduck.

"Are you sure about that? I-I mean o-of course _you're_ sure, but _I'm_ not sure..."

"I, um... oh, boy. All four of us? Together? Running the Negaverse?"

Liquidator hadn't said much of anything, only watched his compatriots argue with Negaduck, whose eyebrows had furrowed deeper and deeper the longer the conversation had been had.

"Are you as stupid as you look?" the mallard eventually snapped, Megavolt and Bushroot both flinching. "This place is home to all the villains from the Prime Universe. It will fall apart if there isn't someone keeping a firm hold on their leashes. You four," he'd surveyed them all darkly, "were the most loyal to me when I was gone for that three year stint. And you came when I called last year for that F.O.W.L. Christmas fiasco. So, congratulations. You get to play babysitter. Stock up your weapons and don't be afraid to blow some shit up if it goes sideways."

By the next morning, when Megavolt and Bushroot might have come up with more arguments, Negaduck had already left to spend the holidays with Gosalyn. (There was no need to stand on precedence; that was the reason he was leaving. Nothing else held as much sway over him as she did and everyone knew it.)

And so the Four gathered together to come up with a game plan for the next week and few days.

"This has to be a test," Bushroot said, pacing back and forth, stray leaves and twigs falling from him as he bandied about.

"Negaduck's probably gonna be watching us the whole time," Megavolt said, his hands on his head, electricity sparking from his fingertips and winking between the prongs of the plug hat. "And then he'll punish us for whatever we do while he's gone. Or what we _don't_ do."

"What better way," Liquidator said, swelling up to a lean lanky height, "to prove you're the most effective leader than to put people in charge who can't do the job?" Which was surprisingly succinct for the water dog.

Quackerjack bounced over to them, all smiles. "You're worrying over nothing," he said, bobbing on the balls of his feet.

"I think we have a good reason to worry," Bushroot said, stopping his pacing. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at him.

Quackerjack grinned. "We don't need to run the Negaverse. Negaduck was gone for three years and this place was just as frightened of him when he came back as the day he left."

Megavolt considered Quackerjack's words before dropping his hands to his sides and glancing at Bushroot. "He has a point."

"Some assembly _was_ required," Liquidator pointed out. "It was under new management."

"Liquidator's right," Bushroot said. "Gosalyn watched over the Negaverse in Negaduck's absence. It was never unsupervised." He continued to eye Quackerjack warily, a frown on his beak.

"Okay, sure," Quackerjack said, spinning on his heel and waving away Bushroot's negativity. "But that was for three years. This is gonna be, what? Ten days? Eleven at the most? Negaduck's disappeared way longer for his own schemes and no one watched over his little realm then. And look at it!" He gestured around them towards the windows high in the warehouse walls that clearly showed the charred skyline. "It's fine! Well," he shrugged, "not _fine_ fine, but it's functioning."

Megavolt's eyebrows rose and he smiled, another streak of electricity flashing between the prongs on his hat.

It was now officially two against two. If Quackerjack got just one of the others on his side, it would be the majority. Which totally ruled.

"But Negaduck has never named a successor before. Which makes me think he's anticipating something will happen," rationalized Bushroot. "Maybe he really _is_ just testing us."

"Why not both?" Liquidator asked. Bushroot nodded gravely.

Maybe. Perhaps.

But that didn't matter. Because they — he — got to call the shots. So they could let the Negaverse fall to waste if they wanted. They could up and abandon it. They could change the structure of the whole society. The choice was entirely theirs.

Quackerjack glanced over his shoulder with a sly smile. "I'm not arguing any of that. What I'm saying is Negaduck leaves the Negaverse on its own all the time. Why couldn't we do the same?"

"I'm sorry," cut in Bushroot, "were you planning a vacation?"

"You'll just _love_ the destination." Quackerjack waggled his eyebrows.

Bushroot and Liquidator exchanged glances. Megavolt studied Quackerjack quizzically.

"Picture if you will, gentlemen," said Quackerjack, walking back towards the group and gesticulating wildly, "the Prime Universe. All decked out for the holidays and ripe for the picking."

"You want to commit a crime in the _one_ universe where we _know_ Negaduck is going to be?" Bushroot balked.

"Oh, please," said Quackerjack. "Negaduck is going to be with Gosalyn. Who lives in St. Canard. There are so many more cities out there than just _St. Canard_."

"The suspense is killing me," Liquidator said.

Bouncing backwards and successfully landing a back handspring, Quackerjack spread his arms out wide. "Scrooge McDuck's money bin."

Megavolt broke out into cackles and Liquidator splashed down as he all but collapsed in on himself.

Bushroot, his beak hanging open, said, "You're insane. Actually insane."

"It's perfect!" Quackerjack interjected. "Scrooge will be with his family, celebrating the holidays. Which means his money bin will be all alone on Christmas. And no one should be alone on Christmas."

"It won't be alone. There's plenty of security systems to keep that bin company," Bushroot said.

"Against plants? Or water?" Quackerjack nodded to Bushroot and Liquidator in turn. "Even if there's precautions against those things, little electric surges happen all the time." Quackerjack walked over to Megavolt and tossed his arm around his shoulders. "If the cameras go offline for a few minutes, that's not abnormal."

Liquidator and Megavolt glanced at one another. Liquidator was considering it, Quackerjack could see it in his face.

Good ol' Bushroot was left, the stubborn sod.

"Think of all that money," Quackerjack said, zeroing in on Bushroot. "Grabbing a few handfuls for ourselves. No fancy plans from Negaduck with five hundred overly complicated steps, no cutting the winnings five ways. Whatever you pocket, you keep. Scrooge has more money than God; a few fistfuls of coins isn't going to do anything to his bank account. And think of all the things you could get with that kind of dough. Like improvements to a certain green house." He smiled at Bushroot whose gaze had gone faraway at the mention of his hideout.

Stepping away from the group so he was standing in front of all three of them, Quackerjack grinned a little manically. "We're in charge of the Negaverse, right? Sanctioned by Negaduck himself. As the rulers of the city, it's our duty to prove our worth. To show all these people that we, too, are just as capable of making decisions as Negaduck is. And how do you get a group of villains to respect you? You commit a crime. We have this in the bag, fellas. Waddya say?"

Megavolt grinned and balled his hands into fists, coils of electricity spasming up his arms.

Bushroot and Liquidator looked to one another again. Liquidator's water swirled up on one side in something akin to a half-shrug.

Bushroot sighed. Glanced at Quackerjack. Then back to the other two.

Quackerjack knew what his answer would be before he nodded.

The Fearsome Four in charge of the Negaverse.

Please.

 _Quackerjack_ was in charge of the Negaverse.

And he wouldn't be wasting this opportunity.

Once he had his money, he'd pour everything into his shop. Get _Quackerjack's Toys_ back on the map. Maybe just in time to cobble together a few small trinkets and baubles to barter on the streets of the Negaverse.

Christmas had once been his most successful time of the year.

And he was ready to take the holiday back. Make Christmas again.

Quackerjack tumbled forward to sit cross-legged on the ground. "Let's start planning this little caper."

The other three joined him on the floor as Quackerjack whipped out crudely drawn blueprints of the money bin and maps of Duckburg.


	5. Jingle Bells

Duckburg always glittered, regardless of the season. It was the crown jewel of Calisota, due in no small part to Scrooge McDuck. His impressive money bin, expansive mansion, and sprawling business empire employed a good chunk of the city and kept the metropolis cogs whirring smoothly.

Drake wasn't jealous of Duckburg.

Not at all.

Maybe a little bit, but _only_ because he was a St. Canard boy through and through.

He had no qualms against Scrooge McDuck himself. (Except for those few times when Scrooge's greed blinded him to Gosalyn's well being. Which was happening less and less, admittedly, as Scrooge spent more time with Gosalyn and he, too, fell under her spell.)

So, driving into Duckburg for the holidays didn't choke Drake with jealousy. Or paralyze him with anxiety over the fact that he would be socializing with the richest duck in this, or any, century. As much. Anymore.

Which was due to Gosalyn. His girl had dragged him back out into the world when he had been determined to avoid it.

Locked away in Darkwing Tower high above any semblance of society, Darkwing had been happy with his hermit lifestyle. Only socializing with S.H.U.S.H. or the villains he fought against, and even then they weren't _conversations_. Darkwing would only banter with the villains during fights, or lecture them on their life choices, and his connection to S.H.U.S.H. had always been strictly professional. Darkwing had been dogged and single-minded in his youth; he lived, breathed, and embodied Darkwing Duck, the hero he had convinced himself the city couldn't operate without. (Even if he had felt desperately lonely when he stopped long enough to really think about it.)

Until Gosalyn.

Until she'd reminded Darkwing that a duck named Drake resided underneath his purple suit.

She had seen through his mask (physical and metaphorical) mere hours after meeting him. And she had been more interested in him as a citizen rather than as a hero.

" _How come you wear a mask?"_ Her question still clanged in his mind, still in her childlike tenor. A nine year old. Asking him if he would ever think of taking his mask off, even for " _a really really really close friend_."

But that was Gosalyn all over. So much more interested in what was underneath, what was hidden, than what was given to her at face value.

And while Drake was a dweeb and insecure and obsessive, he had been exactly what Gosalyn had needed. And anything Gosalyn needed was worth investing in. Which included himself. Sans heroism and calm cool exterior and nerves of steel. She had _needed_ the moody, overbearing, stubborn, so incredibly _vulnerable_ Drake Mallard more than she had ever needed Darkwing Duck.

And so Drake Mallard had been reintroduced to the world, which gave Darkwing Duck all the more reason to fight. He'd found something worth protecting, something he wanted to come home to.

And it was for this girl, who wasn't a girl anymore, that Drake was even here, driving through the town that made him feel small and insignificant.

Because if Duckburg glittered on a normal day, it shone during the Christmas season. Every inch of the city was covered in Yuletide cheer. There were wreaths on every door, color coordinated and cradling small ornaments that reflected the shops they adorned (wrenches and washers for the hardware store, nutcrackers and ballerinas for the toy shop, different miniaturized plastic cuisines depending on the food that was cooked within). Massive cut outs of stockings or French horns or presents were embellished with glitter and small string lights and mounted on the sides of the street lamps. Lattices of different colored lights crisscrossed above the streets, their bright beams reflecting off the snow and making the mounds of white powder look as though they were infused with the diamonds rumored to be in Scrooge's money bin. Every tree was coated in lights, all varying colors depending on the district. There was garland, holly, mistletoe, and poinsettias sprinkled in amongst the fabricated decorations, giving a richness to the Yuletide jungle.

No stone was left undecorated. Every inch of the city sparkled like a snow globe, picturesque and pristine.

Drake navigated the streets with ease as he wound his way through downtown and up towards the mansion on the hill.

Pedestrians were strolling down the snow-filled sidewalks in groups, carrying packages and laughing with their companions. There were smatterings of carolers and a musicians, instrument cases open for tips from any passers-by, and the standard Salvation Army Santas stood outside major department stores, ringing their little bells as people deposited loose change and spare cash into the red bucket beside him.

St. Canard didn't bustle like this. Not even during the most wonderful time of the year. Which Drake was grateful for. He much preferred his own city where it was still filled with the Christmas spirit but with far less pomp and circumstance.

Steering up the winding drive leading to the McDuck mansion — which almost looked prosaic with its more traditional garland and wreaths, all evergreen and adorned with simple ornamentation — Drake parked the car and turned off the ignition. Climbing out, he stomped through the gathering snow and raised his fist to hammer on the door when it suddenly opened.

Drake, who had been mid-knock, tumbled inside the warm foyer. He stumbled over his own feet and would have fallen flat on his bill if a pair of deft hands didn't catch him half way down.

"Good evening, sir," came the voice of Scrooge McDuck's butler, Duckworth. "Might I suggest removing your winter garments before entering the house proper? Mrs. Beakley will be most displeased if snow and ice trek any further than the welcome mat."

"Well, because you asked so _nicely_ ," Drake muttered, righting himself with the help of Duckworth before shedding his coat and boots.

Holding the boots in one hand, Drake's coat folded over the other arm, Duckworth glanced out through the open door. "Am I to assume Ms. Gosalyn and Mr. McQuack are in your wake?"

"Uh, no. No, they're coming later," said Drake, glancing around the room.

He always forgot how big Scrooge's mansion really was until he was standing inside it. It didn't help that he was currently alone; both Gosalyn and Launchpad finishing up their own holiday plans. They would be arriving later in the evening with the Goofs. It was Drake's first time since meeting Scrooge that he was showing up solo.

His heart wasn't pounding.

It _wasn't_.

"Very good, sir," said Duckworth, closing the door and motioning down the hall. "Mr. McDuck and his nephews are just sitting down to dinner in the dining room. I will inform Mrs. Beakley of your arrival so she can lay another place at the table."

"I can lay my own place at the table," Drake offered, feeling supremely uncomfortable having the most mundane of household tasks tended to him by paid servants.

"It's no trouble, sir," said Duckworth, hanging Drake's coat in the nearby closet and dropping his boots onto a small rubber mat. "We have been expecting you."

"Yeah, all right," muttered Drake, making a beeline for the dining room, desperate to get away from the ever watchful eyes of Duckworth.

The formal sedate foyer melted away as soon as Drake stepped into the dining room, loud voices and laughter echoing off the walls.

Scrooge sat at the head of the table, Huey, Dewey, and Louie flanking his right and Donald and Daisy on his left. They all cried out greetings as Drake walked in. He ducked his head and murmured his own hellos and how-are-yous as he took up a seat beside Daisy, who smiled at him warmly. No sooner had he sat down that Mrs. Beakley was at his side, placing a bowl of steaming soup before him and setting down silverware, a napkin, and a wine glass.

Drake was about to tell Mrs. Beakley that she needn't bother with the wine — he hadn't touched alcohol ever since seeing the affects it had on his father — when Dewey reached across the table and plucked it up. "He'll have water, Mrs. Beakley," he said, sending Drake a small smile and a wink. The boy certainly was perceptive.

Mrs. Beakley whisked it away, no questions asked, as Scrooge looked down the table towards Drake. The evening light softened his harsher features and made him look almost companionable. "How was your drive?"

"Uneventful." Drake took up his spoon. "I always forget how many decorations Duckburg has."

"Uncle Scrooge takes pride in making the city look like the inside of a snow globe," said Huey.

"Mission accomplished," Drake said, dipping his spoon into the soup and scooping up the broth.

"Gosalyn and Launchpad are coming later?" Louie asked.

Drake nodded, trying not to dribble soup down his beak as he swallowed and tried to speak simultaneously.

"I'm sure Mrs. Beakley will keep something for them in the oven," said Daisy.

"Aye. Before ye came in, Drake, Donald was regaling us with his most recent adventure to Brazil with José and Panchito. Ye remember them from our holiday excursion last year?"

At Drake's nod, Scrooge turned his attention back to Donald, who quickly brought Drake up to speed on his travels before delving further into his tale.

If he was being honest, Drake had been worried that this evening was going to be all kinds of awkward. Gosalyn and Launchpad had more influence with everyone in the room, Launchpad from his past employment here and Gosalyn with her current one.

But it wasn't awkward at all.

Maybe a _little_ awkward, but Drake was a pretty awkward guy, so. He'd come to expect a certain level of it whenever he interacted with... just about anybody.

He ate his dinner and listened to Donald's story. The boys teased their uncle, getting him off track and Scrooge or Daisy then effortlessly steered the banter back to the main tale. It was familiar and comfortable, even though Drake hadn't spent much time with any of them outside of the holidays.

Christmas, at some point in the past few years, just didn't feel complete without Scrooge McDuck and his brood. Nor would it be a real Christmas without the Goofs. Or Negaduck. Each realization was more disturbing than the last, but, simultaneously, wasn't.

Drake's family had gotten larger over the years.

Without any of them, he would still be sitting in Darkwing Tower. Alone. Tracking all villainous activity in the hopes of finding some sort of criminal to bust.

But here he was, having dinner with the richest duck in the world almost like belonged here.

In moments like these, the naked truth of what his life would have been like without Launchpad or Gosalyn — and everything and everyone they had brought in their wake — stared him in the face, and he was hit with a wave of gratitude for every hardship and disaster that had led to him meeting his sidekick and his daughter.

Because without them, this St. Canard duck would never have felt so at ease amongst the glittering enchantment of Duckburg.


	6. Sleigh Ride

Launchpad stood on the curb, hands tucked into his coat pockets as he surveyed the house before him. He didn't have to wait long before the decorative lights blinked on, fairly blinding him. Goofy sure did like his Christmas decorations.

The house was a beacon against the night; every inch covered in bulbous string lights. Even the plastic Santa with his eight tiny reindeer on the roof had spotlights focused on them. The pathway leading up to the house was bracketed by large light up candy canes. The porch dripped with lights wrapped around each pillar and railing. The blow up figurines in the yard — a train, a snowman, and a snow globe with caroling snow people in it — had lights shining from within.

It had become a tradition to assist Goofy in decorating his house and then watch the ceremonial first lighting of the season. Even though they were all due in Duckburg this evening, Launchpad wouldn't have missed this ceremony for the world. DW had gone on ahead, taking their luggage to the mansion. Gos was out with Max and his friends, enjoying the final day of the holiday food market that was set up in Spoonerville's main thoroughfare. They were to journey up to Duckburg together that very evening, the four of them.

Goofy loped down the drive, only slipping three times as he navigated the icy walkway, to come stand beside Launchpad. He was about to take up his position when he lost his footing and flopped into the snowbank near Launchpad's feet.

Bending down to help Goofy back up to standing, Launchpad said, "The projector is new."

And so it was, set up within the veritable forest of yard decorations, the lens pointed at Goofy's crooked garage door. A barrage of multicolored snowflakes swirled along the paneling.

"Ain't it somethin'?" Goofy asked, brushing snow off his sweater and surveying his yard with pride. "Got it on sale last year after the holidays. Really adds a special sparkle, don't ya think?"

It kind of did. There was so much to look at in Goofy's yard, but all of it was stationary. The projected flakes drew the eye. It was probably for the best that DW had gone on before them; he tended to think Goofy's yard was garish and overdone.

Launchpad disagreed.

Christmas wouldn't be Christmas without the famed Goof decorations. Blinding and slightly overwhelming as they were.

"Welp," said Goofy, looking over his house with a critical eye. "Suppose that does it. Ya wanna warm up some cocoa while we wait fer the kids ta get back?"

Did he _ever_.

"I'll follow you." Which turned out to be a smart idea on Launchpad's part since he was in a prime position to catch Goofy as he fell not once, not twice, but four times up the driveway and into the house.

The interior was just as decorated as the exterior but with more greenery and less lighting. Oh, sure, Goofy's tree and wreaths and garland had lights woven through them, but they were all a soft white and were welcoming amongst the red satin bows and green branches.

Launchpad settled at the kitchen table as Goofy warmed up the cocoa on the stove.

"How's the crime fightin' business?" Goofy asked.

"Much the same as it's always been," Launchpad said. "Whenever a villain pops up, DW and I take care of it. Gos helps sometimes, but she's been working with Mr. McD a lot lately, so we haven't seen much of her."

Goofy poured the cocoa into two Christmas mugs. "Has Maxie helped ya on any cases?"

Launchpad took the offered steaming mug from Goofy's hands. "No. I know he wants to."

"Itchin' to get out there. He's been gettin' trained by Negaduck and is gettin' mighty restless." Goofy pulled out a chair and settled into it, his own mug on the table in front of him.

"Is that okay?" Launchpad asked, unable to get a read on his friend. Goofy was always amiable, but it was foolish to think that Goofy was only _ever_ carefree. Launchpad knew Goofy had the exact same range of emotions as anyone else, but he rarely showed just how deep those still waters ran.

"Oh, sure," Goofy said, waving off Launchpad's concern. "Maxie's been chompin' at the bit to fight against them villains since he first saw Gosie go up against that Taurus Bulba fella. Don't know, exactly, what held him back. But Gos disappearing to another universe this past summer finally got him to do somethin' about it."

Launchpad took a drink of his cocoa, the sweetness coating his tongue pleasantly as the warmth sank down into his very bones. Setting the mug back on the table, Launchpad ran his thumb along the handle. "It was rough not having Gos around. Everyone handled it well, but I know it weighed heavy on Max, DW, and Negaduck."

"But," said Goofy, holding up his mug with a smile, "ya got her back and she's safe and sound."

Launchpad grinned and clinked his mug with Goofy's before they both drank deeply.

"Must be interestin', travelin' to different worlds," said Goofy.

"I wouldn't really know," Launchpad said. "Only been to one other world myself."

"'S'more than I've been to," said Goofy with a small shrug and a smile. "Though, I don't know if I'd like it much. I'd probably get confused over what was real and what wasn't."

"What do you mean?"

"Well…." Goofy looked past Launchpad, his brow furrowing as he tried to find the words. "In other worlds, things didn't happen the exact way that they did here, right? So, nothin' would really be the same. Like, maybe the _Titanic_ didn't sink in one of them worlds. And that one thing not happenin' would change a lot of history. Even some people we know wouldn't be around 'cause maybe they was never born, or they had an accident that took 'em from the world before their time. Then there would be other people who've passed away here who didn't die in that other world, so it'd be sorta like seein' ghosts." Goofy shook his head. "No, sir. To see other worlds would be mighty interestin', but I'm more than happy to stay here."

Launchpad's mind was spinning.

He'd never really considered the infinite possibilities that lie beyond that doorway in Gyro's workshop. Goofy was right; each world would have its own history independent of the others. The Negaverse, for example, was similar to the Prime Universe, but entirely its own. There were only guesses as to how many more worlds existed, and how different they were from each other.

And Gosalyn had visited a fair number.

When Negaduck had disappeared to a parallel universe, she'd gone to find him. And she had. After three years of looking. That was an untold number of universes she'd gone to. Hundreds of different histories to learn. Thousands of different — yet still similar — people to interact with.

"I bet you that's why Gosie is so good with talkin' to people," Goofy said with a smile. "She probably knows more about us than anyone, havin' come across so many different versions."

"She probably does," Launchpad agreed.

Had she come across Launchpad's family? Or Goofy's? Mr. McD's, DW's, or Negaduck's? What if she'd seen her own again? Her parents and grandfather, who might not be dead in other worlds? What if she had siblings in other universes, with her parents living long enough to have more children?

Launchpad had never thought this far. Considered the full ramifications of multiverse travel. And Gosalyn had done it consistently for three years. Not to mention the one-off visits she still sometimes went on.

"I think that's the kids," Goofy said, standing up and walking towards the front door. The dull sound of car doors shutting met Launchpad's ears, and he stood, carrying the two cocoa mugs to the sink where he quickly washed them.

He'd have to check in with Gosalyn at some point. Make sure she was okay. Traveling to parallel universes was no small feat, not just physically, but mentally and emotionally.

With Christmas just around the corner, he'd let the holidays slide past them. Let everyone enjoy the time of year and one another. But once it quieted down, he was going to have a talk with Gosalyn.

Maybe another sleigh ride was in order to pull her away from the others and guarantee them full privacy.


	7. Away In A Manger

"Christmas food market," Bobby said sagely, tossing the wrapper that had been encasing his peppermint bark ice cream cone, "we officially destroyed you."

"Showed it who was boss," Max agreed.

"Crushed it!" PJ said, pumping a fist into the air.

Max had an arm wrapped around Gosalyn's shoulders. When he looked down at her, she looked up at the same time and they shared a smile, Max's insides doing a few somersaults at the way the lights around them reflected in her eyes.

Could he really be blamed for ducking down for a quick kiss? He didn't think so. But Bobby made retching noises, which he'd done whenever they, or PJ and his fiancé, had shown any sort of PDA.

Bobby was still single and very aware of the fact, so he took any and all opportunities to show his displeasure at the loving couples around him. Of which there had been many meandering around this food festival that was set up in the middle of downtown Spoonerville.

The festival itself had been a blast. Main Street had been blocked off for the event and small tents had been set up all along the street. Under each tent sat a different cuisine, all holiday themed and many from other countries. There was not just savory dishes, sweet desserts, and smooth drinks, but there was also a fair amount of art and trinkets to buy from the countries of origin. A few different bands got up on a makeshift stage and sang Christmas carols, and various groups of dancers performed traditional holiday pieces. Managing to get Max, PJ, and Bobby in one location for more than an hour was a miracle in itself nowadays, but throwing in Max and PJ's significant others was an added bonus and had taken them a whole year to plan. And it had been so worth it.

"I don't know about all of you," said Vicki, PJ's fiancé, pulling her long black coat around her more securely, "but I'm voting we do this again next year."

"Agreed," said Gosalyn.

"Absolutely, my dudes," said Bobby. "I've already been scoping out the scene, and it's looking pretty baller. I can text ya the deets once I know more info."

"Thanks, Bobby," said PJ, offering his scarf to Vicki, who gladly took it with a peck to PJ's cheek, which prompted Bobby to make his retching sounds again.

Max glanced at his watch, saying, "We should get going if we want to reach Duckburg tonight. I'm sure Dad's finished decorating by now." He detangled his arm from around Gosalyn to say his farewells to his friends. The three boys went through the motions of their complicated handshake they'd had since high school while Gosalyn and Vicki watched from the sidelines, saying their own goodbyes.

Bobby, PJ, and Vicki made their way to PJ's car as Max and Gosalyn started walking towards their own.

"I hope Scrooge wasn't planning on feeding us," Max said as climbed into the driver's seat.

"I doubt he thought that far ahead." Gosalyn buckled herself into the passenger seat. "He's a brilliant businessman and a first rate adventurer, but I can't tell you how many times he forgets to look for a place to rest or just doesn't think that we might need to, like, eat. Mrs. Beakley, on the other hand, will definitely have something waiting."

Max backed out of the parking spot and navigated onto the road, their car headed to the quiet and brightly decorated suburbs. "I don't think I could eat anything else, even out of politeness."

"Where's that famous Goof appetite?" Gosalyn asked, pulling off her beanie and shaking her head, bangs dancing along her forehead. "Goofy can put away food like he hasn't eaten in days."

"He's much taller than me!"

"Not _that_ much taller." She smirked at Max as the softly twinkling town blended into sprawling neighborhoods, string lights and greenery a blur as the drove past.

"Listen, I don't know, okay? When I was a kid and I played sports all the time, I was always hungry. But now I just don't eat as much. Probably _because_ I don't play sports anymore."

"No, you just spar with St. Canard's Most Wanted on a semi-weekly basis."

Max grinned as he thought of his training with Negaduck.

It had been the most intimidating and awesome thing he'd ever done. Negaduck was a harsh teacher who was prone to slapping your hand into the right position, growling obscenities under his breath, and threatening his pupil bodily harm if he didn't get the combination right. But his results were pretty spectacular. Max hadn't had the opportunity to show them off outside the training field, but make no mistake, he was running headlong into the next battle. While the opportunities had been scarce, Max was getting more and more confident that he could actually hold his own in fight and was eager to see if his suspicions were correct. Negaduck wasn't scowling at him quite as much anymore these days, so Max counted that in itself as a win.

"Come to think of it," said Gosalyn as they turned down the street where Goofy's house was, "we _are_ going through food a lot more quickly since you started your training."

"No, we're not."

"I now go grocery shopping twice a week."

"That sounds fake."

"All right, have it your way. But ten bucks says you're gonna eat once we get to Duckburg."

"I hope you won't miss your ten dollars too much. I'm so full, I won't be able to eat until next week."

"Until you see Mrs. Beakley's Christmas cookies," Gosalyn said as they pulled into the overly decorated driveway.

Max killed the engine and turned to survey her. "What happened to being supportive?"

"Babe, I'm always supportive." She leaned in close. Her body heat sent goosebumps racing up his arms, his breath catching in his throat.

Except.

She stopped herself, their mouths centimeters away. "But I'm gonna call you on your bullshit. And you not eating food that's in front of you? Is bullshit." With that, she gave him a quick kiss and a blinding smile before climbing out of the car.

Max sat dazed for a moment. Then he rolled his eyes as a slow smile spread across his face.

Yeah.

She was right.

He would eat any food that was within reach.

He wasn't a Goof for nothing.

Max got out of the car as Goofy waved at them from the porch. "Hiya, Maxie! Gos!"

"Hi, Goofy," Gosalyn said with an answering wave. "The house looks great."

Max did a once over of his childhood home, taking in the grandeur and the overdecorating that was synonymous with this time of year.

"Oh, hey," he said, his tone flat as he looked towards the garage. "You found the projector."

"Sure did! It was mixed in with the fishin' gear in the attic."

Max very carefully faced away from his father. He shook his head in mock disbelief and tried to make his tone more convincing. "Wow, what a weird place for Christmas decorations to be. Are you and Launchpad ready? We should probably hit the road."

"Sure are!" Goofy said as he turned on his heel and went back into the house.

"You," said Gosalyn, turning to face Max with a hand on her hip and a smirk on her beak, "are a terrible liar."

Max smirked. "I'm not as bad as you."

Her beak dropped open. "I'm _great_ at lying!"

"Okay," Max huffed.

Gosalyn crosses her arms over her chest. "I am!"

"Yes, dear."

"Maximillian Goof—"

But whatever threat Gosalyn was about to fling at him died as Launchpad and Goofy clamored out of the house, both wearing their warm winter gear and Goofy with a small suitcase in hand.

Launchpad gave a smile of his own in greeting as he walked to the car. Max shot Gosalyn a grin as she rilled her eyes before they both slid back into the car, Goofy and Launchpad taking the backseat.

At some point in their drive from Spoonerville to Duckburg, Gosalyn reached over to take Max's hand. He gave her fingers a brief squeeze, which she reciprocated, as she regaled Launchpad and Goofy with stories from their day.

It was at an intersection in Duckburg, when they were stopped at a red light that Gosalyn yanked her hand away and practically pressed herself to the window, saying, "Oh, my God. Pull over."

"What?" asked Max, glancing in his rearview mirror to catch a glimpse of whatever she'd seen.

"Pull over!" Gosalyn said, eyes fixed on whatever had snared her attention.

Goofy and Launchpad glanced outside, too, but there was only confusion in their faces as Max hastened to obey. Throwing on his hazards, he pulled up to the curb and looked out the passenger window.

To two ducks who were wandering the street, looking around them with something like hopelessness in their open-beaked wonderment. One was tall and lanky, his outfit having a strong Western cowboy vibe. And the other….

"Is that… Drake? Why is he dressed like a pirate?" Max asked.

Gosalyn didn't answer. Instead, she flung herself out of the car and ran up to the strangers, who both looked immensely relieved to see her.

"I better call DW," said Launchpad.

"I'll call Scrooge," Max said, throwing the car into park and pulling out his phone.

"And I'll call a cab," Goofy said. "There's no way all six of us can fit in this here car."


	8. Santa Claus Is Coming To Town

Drake had paced the front foyer give or take fifty times (he _wasn't_ counting) when the front doors opened, admitting the newcomers into Scrooge's mansion.

Goofy and Launchpad led the charge, both of them smiling and greeting Duckworth, who bowed sagely and took their coats. Max walked in next, giving a small shrug to Drake before turning to Duckworth and giving him a high five, an action which the butler not only reciprocated, but seemed adept at. And lastly, Gosalyn waltzed in, flanked by Posiduck and Posi-Stellar.

Drake had _so many questions_.

"Listen," growled a voice beside him, causing Drake to leap a few feet into the air.

Negaduck stood beside Drake, scowling darkly at the Posiverse visitors. Where he'd come from, Drake had no idea.

He gaped open-beaked at Negaduck, but the Masked Menace paid the surprise no mind and continued, "I know I'm on the naughty list, but I was promised coal, not this shit."

"Where did you come from?" Drake asked.

Negaduck looked at Drake with an expression of intense disappointment. "The Negaverse. I thought you were a master at deduction."

It was Drake's turn to scowl. "I _meant_ how did you get into Scrooge McDuck's private mansion?"

"I invited him," said Scrooge, who was standing in the middle of the foyer with his top hat perched on his head and cane in hand. Gone was the relaxed patriarch of the McDuck clan. He was now in full business mode and eyed the new visitors with no small amount of misgiving.

"Did you sneak in through the back?" Drake asked Negaduck, his hands on his hips as he glared down his arch-iest arch nemesis. He knew — he really did — that there was a much larger elephant in the room — from another universe no less — but, somehow, he was not able to let this go. It wasn't every day that Negaduck just popped up out of nowhere.

Well.

Okay.

Yes it was.

Almost _every_ day.

Negaduck didn't have a very keen sense of personal boundaries.

He stared at Drake, gave a short, "Yes," and turned back to the visitors with a dark glower.

Stellar walked up to Scrooge and held out a hand with a friendly smile. "Stellar Mallard." Dressed in a button down shirt, a vest, and a long brown duster, Stellar looked every inch a cowboy, complete with a fedora perched atop his head and gun holsters on his hips. Scrooge glanced to Drake and Negaduck briefly, intrigue glinting in those sharp eyes, before he looked back to Stellar and shook his hand.

"We've come from another universe," Stellar explained, motioning back to Posiduck.

"So I assumed," Scrooge said, looking to Posiduck and keeping his back ram-rod straight, his expression stony. Still gathering data.

Drake had never really noticed how much Scrooge had opened up and come to trust their group. Until this moment, when he was behaving much the same as he had when he'd first met Drake and Gosalyn all those years ago.

Drake looked over to the front door, where Posiduck was still standing, looking around the room with wide eyes and a slack jaw.

Gosalyn, who had given Duckworth her winter wear, turned to Posiduck. "Do you want to take off your coat?"

Posiduck snapped out of his reverie and nodded silently, yanking off his long navy trench coat to reveal a bright blue vest, a dark pink button down shirt, navy blue pants, and large clunky gray boots. And at his waist, strapped to a belt….

"Is that a rapier?" Gosalyn asked, eyebrows drawn in confusion as Duckworth gathered the coat, his own expression one of mild surprise.

"It is!" Posiduck said, drawing the sword with something like pride in his expression. Negaduck reached into his cape, but Drake put a hand on his arm, stopping him from grabbing whatever weapon he had stashed in there. "I've become proficient in sword handling!" Posiduck said, brandishing the sword in the air, Gosalyn and Duckworth taking a step back to distance themselves from the erratic movements.

"How about swashbuckling?" Darkwing asked, an eyebrow raised as he still held Negaduck back from any sudden movements.

"What?" Posiduck asked, looking over at them, his eyebrows drawn together.

"You look like Long John Silver," Negaduck said, giving up the fight and withdrawing his hand from his cape only to cross his arms over his chest.

"I don't know who that is," Posiduck said.

Negaduck groaned and massaged his temples. "Hades save me from incompetence," he muttered to himself.

"Can you please explain to me," said Scrooge, surveying Posiduck before looking back up to Stellar, "why you have come all this way?"

"To warn you," said Stellar, looking to Drake and Negaduck briefly — Drake felt Negaduck tense beside him — before his gaze landed on Gosalyn. "Ana is planning an attack."

Negaduck deflated at the sound of their mother's name. Drake looked to Gosalyn, who was watching him and Negaduck with worry on her face.

"Ana is…?" Scrooge asked.

"The ruler of our world," said Posiduck, sheathing his sword and walking into the room to stand beside his father. "She seems to have taken it upon herself to impose the same order she's enforced in our world onto the rest of the multiverse. Starting with your world."

"That's rather arrogant," Scrooge said darkly.

"She's ruled unchecked for years," Stellar said. "Until recently. Gosalyn, Darkwing, and Negaduck stopped her," Stellar said, nodding to each in turn. "This might be an act of revenge as well as a secondary strike."

"She is not one to take 'no' as an answer," Posiduck added. " _Especially_ to a universe that was unwilling to listen to her before."

"When is she planning this attack?" Max asked. He was standing in the middle of the room, in between the Posiverse group and Gosalyn, who was still hovering near the door.

"We don't know," Stellar admitted. "We learned of the supposed attack and came here as quickly as we could. Lyn went to try and pinpoint what Ana's specific plans are."

Scrooge studied Stellar and Posiduck before looking to Drake. "Can you contact Darkwing Duck and ask him to make a call to S.H.U.S.H.? Ask if they've heard of any disturbances?"

A wave of gratitude swelled in Drake at the gesture. Scrooge knew that Drake Mallard and Darkwing Duck were one in the same, but he was willing to keep his identity a secret. Drake wasn't sure if the subterfuge was necessary; most everyone in the room already knew of Drake's double life.

Maybe not Goofy.

Duckworth definitely knew, even though they'd never exchanged more than, maybe, twenty words.

Their Posiverse visitors had only met him as Darkwing Duck, but Stellar had clearly caught on since he'd already called him "Darkwing." Posiduck was a version of Drake himself, so he was confident that Posiduck wouldn't be surprised by the revelation.

"Sure," Drake said.

"I will make a few calls of my own," Scrooge said with a slight bow to Stellar and Posiduck. "Excuse me." He looked to Duckworth. "Can you show our visitors into my study?"

"Of course, sir." Duckworth glided across the room. "Right this way gentlemen," he said, waving a gloved hand in the direction of the study, which was on the other side of the house from the dining room where Scrooge's family was currently stationed.

Stellar and Posiduck hesitated for a moment — seeming more surprised that they were getting escorted by a bonafide butler rather than put out that they were being tucked away into a far corner of the house — before following Duckworth's lead.

Once they were out of earshot, Scrooge sighed, his facade of a businessman fading away to reveal exhaustion. He looked to Gosalyn. "Wandering the streets were they?"

She nodded, walking over to Max, Goofy, and Launchpad. "We found them by the pier." She pulled out a small piece of jewelry that looked like a watch and held it out for everyone's inspection. "They used this to get here. I guess they were built in a hurry, though, because they weren't calibrated correctly, and the two of them appeared in Duckburg instead of the intended St. Canard. I was hoping Gyro could take a look at this to see if we can get it working again." She pocketed the watch/multiverse portal. "But they told us basically the same story in the car. About Ana coming to make an attack on us."

Max nodded.

"And here I thought we might have a quiet holiday season," Scrooge said around another long sigh, tapping his cane lightly on the marble floor.

"That's stupid," Negaduck said. "Nothing's ever quiet with us."

Scrooge looked over with a slow smile spreading on his beak. "Yer right about that, lad."

"I'll call S.H.U.S.H.," Drake said, pulling out his Darkwing communicator.

Scrooge nodded. "Once we hear back from them, we can decide what we want to do. In the meantime—" but Scrooge was cut off when his phone started to ring. He pulled it out and answered, walking away slightly.

Drake and Negaduck crossed the room, closing the distance between them and the others, Drake still looking at his phone, scrolling through for J. Gander's personal number.

"I can fight in this one, right?" Max asked, looking at Negaduck with something like glee in his eyes. "I mean, I've been training since the summer. I think I'm ready."

"If you think you're ready, why are you asking for permission?" Negaduck growled.

Max shrugged. "Well…."

"He means yes," Gosalyn said, nudging Max with a smile.

Max lit up, a huge grin on his face. "Really?"

Drake smiled at Gosalyn as he pushed "call" and brought the phone up to his ear while Negaduck sighed.

"I don't need a translator," Negaduck growled.

Gosalyn smirked. "Of course not."

The dial tone was still buzzing in Drake's ear when Scrooge walked back to the group, phone in hand and looking grim. "That was Gyro," he said. "The multiverse portal is currently active in his lab and it looks like a large party recently walked through. Nothing is damaged, but a few of his notes on multiverse travel are missing."

Everyone exchanged glances as a voice in Darkwing's ear said, "Ah, Darkwing, dear boy. Most excellent timing. I'm sure you must have already seen the robot army making its way towards St. Canard?"

His stomach dropping, Drake met Gosalyn's eyes. "I know about them, J. Gander. We're on our way."

"Would you like backup?" J. Gander asked.

"Yes. Darkwing out." He hung up and silence descended on the group.

Scrooge drew himself up. "Foolish a thought it may have been, but a quiet Christmas would have been nice."

"Maybe next year," Negaduck said.

"Maybe _this_ year," Gosalyn argued. "Christmas is at the end of the week. We can totally get rid of this robot hoard and still have a nice holiday."

"I'm game," said Max.

Nodding, Scrooge looked at Goofy. "My family's in the dining room. Feel free to ask Mrs. Beakley for whatever you'd like." Turning back to the others, he said, "I suggest we convene at my study where we can come up with some sort of plan of attack with our visitors."

"I know it's early," said Max, "but I'm already calling this the best Christmas ever."

"If you're going to be like this the whole time, then you can't come," growled Negaduck, stalking alongside Scrooge towards his study.


	9. Carol Of The Bells

They all had motorcycles. Gosalyn, Darkwing, and Negaduck. Max had seen Darkwing's and Gosalyn's in action before, the two of them barreling through St. Canard while on a case or just to be dramatic (Gosalyn claimed her father and Negaduck were ostentatious, but she definitely appreciated a dramatic flair herself). He had only heard tales of Negaduck's motorcycle; he'd never been able to see it for himself to confirm or deny its existence.

Until today.

It looked just like the Ratcatcher except it was painted in Negaduck's bright yellow and endless black. There was also a distinct lack of a sidecar, but Max could hardly begrudge him that since he hadn't ever been much for sidekicks until Gosalyn came along. The engine purred rather than roared and the bike moved at Negaduck's merest touch like it was responding to his thoughts rather than his movements.

Max had never understood the draw of owning a motorcycle himself, or why two heroes and a villain were so adamant about having their own. From what he gathered, Negaduck and Darkwing had owned theirs first and Gosalyn had followed suit once she was established as her own hero. Even when seeing Gosalyn use her bike, Max hadn't considered motorcycles a truly viable mode of transportation.

But riding into battle on one _was_ pretty badass.

It was in that moment, hanging onto the sides of the bike, feeling the wind whip through his hair with the open road careening past, that Max got it. He understood the _why_ behind the motorcycle. And wondered why he hadn't thought of getting one himself.

"I can feel you vibrating with excitement," growled Negaduck who was bent low over the handlebars. "I swear I'll cut a corner too close and dump your sorry ass if you don't calm down."

Max took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. "Sure, sure. Do you have any tips?"

"Hold onto me. It's not like I'm contagious," Negaduck said.

Okay, here was the thing with _that_.

Negaduck was Gosalyn's mentor. He was a parental/father figure in her life. Over the past few months, he had also become Max's teacher.

But Negaduck was a _villain_. Who still fought against Darkwing on a weekly basis. Who knew his way around every weapon that had ever been created. Who's temper was legendary.

Max wasn't too keen on wrapping his arms around anything that could so easily kill him.

He'd equated it to giving a lion a hug. Yeah, it was sort of tempting in the respect that it looked like a big cat and its fur was probably soft, but it was still stupid dangerous. And one wrong move would have you gutted for dinner.

Max swallowed before saying, "I'm cool. I got a good grip on the side handlebars here. I meant more for the fight. Since this is my first big battle, you know. Any advice?"

"Don't fuck up," Negaduck said, hunkering down to lean into a turn and Max held on all the tighter, only just managing to keep his seat.

"That's very direct."

"Kid, that could be my middle name," Negaduck said, straightening out and accelerating towards the outskirts of the city.

Where a huge black mass was encroaching. Max clenched his jaw as he caught sight of it. He'd heard it looked more impressive in the air, but he hadn't been in the Sunchaser to confirm or deny that particular fact.

Launchpad had flown everyone back to St. Canard, Scrooge and Launchpad electing to stay in Darkwing Tower to coordinate their partnership with S.H.U.S.H. and everyone else on the ground. The rest of the team would be taking on the massive robot army head on.

Darkwing and Posiduck had stayed in the Tower, Darkwing changing into his suit and gathering his weapons before stationing himself and Posiduck at the end of the Audubon Bay Bridge.

Gosalyn and Stellar had grabbed her backup weapons from the Tower before jumping on her bike. They would be approaching from the north-east side of the city.

Which left Negaduck and Max, who would be approaching from the south-west side of town. With the different teams coming in from the three different angles, they hoped to trap most of the robot army along the banks of Audubon Bay where they could fight without impacting the city too much.

After everyone had split up, Negaduck had dragged Max to the Negaverse via the multiverse portal in Gyro's workshop. Once they'd emerged into his home universe, Negaduck had efficiently and effectively scurried around the city, stocking up on weapons.

While he'd been looting around one of his warehouses, Negaduck had dug out a circular shield and a long spear, handing them both over to Max. "These are a loan until we find out what you prefer to work with. But, in my opinion, these should be your weapons of choice."

Max had been somewhat relieved to get the combo; he'd liked using the spear the most during his training, and having a shield strapped to his arm was very reassuring.

After Negaduck had stocked his uniform and cape so full of weaponry that Max wondered how he was still able to move — and how the cape was still able to float and flutter in the wind — they had jumped on his bike and barreled into the Negaverse's Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice Bakery, driving through the multiverse portal into St. Canard Prime's Bakery before hurtling down the street.

The shield and spear were strapped to Max's back, hooked into a harness that Negaduck had found amongst his stores. He wasn't exactly sure when he was supposed to pull them out and have them at the ready.

There was still so much of this Max didn't know how to handle.

Sparring against Negaduck was one thing. He knew when the mallard was going to attack, had time to brace himself. He knew when they were fighting vs. when they were discussing tactics and form.

This was full on battle. Against foes Max had never before gone up against.

Gosalyn would keep an eye on him. Darkwing probably would, too. Maybe Negaduck.

As Negaduck came to a halt and they got their first up close and personal look at the hoard that was laying siege on St. Canard, Max's palms started to sweat.

The robots were a combination of chrome bots that looked like they could be normal citizens if it weren't for their metal skin. They had wheels built into their feet and rolled around with ease and precision, even over the slick winter terrain. Other bots floated, a dark black metal that was shaped to look like Darkwing Duck's face with long menacing claws extending out from beneath them, a scanner fixed on one side of their frame and something like a gun on the other.

Leading this charge were two individuals.

A version of Darkwing Duck, towering above everyone with huge boots, a purple jumpsuit, and spiked armor on his shoulders. His eyes, like the black robots, glowed red under his purple fedora.

To his right stood what had to be a version of Gosalyn, her hair dyed brown and hanging loose around her shoulders under a purple fedora that looked like Darkwing's. She wore a policeman's uniform, colored purple with traces of a teal blue along the seams. She, too, had on large black boots, her shirt was tucked into her trousers, and a tactical belt was fastened around her waist with a bag hanging off one side and a baton off the other.

Gosalyn was standing beside Stellar, the quiver strapped on around her sweatshirt and jeans with her bow in hand. Max dismounted the bike and gave her a small smile as she glanced up at him. She grinned, eyeing his weapons with approval.

Stellar stood on the other side of Gosalyn, thumbs hooked in his gun belt as he surveyed the hundreds — maybe thousands — of robots and tanks before them.

Negaduck also dismounted, hands balled into fists at his sides as he marched over to stand beside Max.

He had to admit, he wasn't sure how they were supposed to stand a chance against such a sprawling army. But he stood his ground, wondering if now would be a good time to pull out his shield. Or his spear. Or if that would provoke an attack.

The spiked Darkwing surveyed them all. "This will be easier than I thought."

Gosalyn took a step forward. "We don't want to fight. If you turn around and leave right now, we'll let you go without any repercussions."

"I wouldn't worry about a fight," said the spiked Darkwing, a slow smile spreading across his beak. He looked over the four of them slowly with his red glowing eyes, as if cataloging their weapons and rating their threat level. "This is looking like it will be more of an extermination."

Gosalyn gripped her bow. "You only get this one warning."

"Noted," said spiked Darkwing.

Gosalyn reached back and withdrew and arrow. Stellar pulled out his pistols and Negaduck felt around in his cape.

This must be when they readied their weapons.

Max pulled his spear and shield free, strapping the shield to his arm.

His heart was hammering. Was he supposed to fight the spiked Darkwing or the brown haired Gosalyn? Or should he go up against a robot? Would a spear and shield do anything to the metal plating that was holding the bots together?

He wanted to be here. He had been _desperate_ to join a fight ever since he'd seen Gosalyn fight Taurus Bulba.

But, man.

This was so much bigger than anything he had been anticipating.

Maybe he _wasn't_ ready for this.

The spiked Darkwing raised a hand, the black robots soaring higher into the sky.

Well.

Too late now.

In quick succession, Gosalyn fired off not one, not two, but three arrows in the blink of an eye. They didn't hit anything, but some sort of liquid spilled out from each of them, coating the bots and tanks as they soared over the hoard in three different directions.

Spiked Darkwing and brown haired Gosalyn both followed the arrows's trajectories, looking over their shoulders. They turned back around, confusion on the girl's face and condescension on spiked Darkwing's.

"It seems your reputation has been inflated past your abilities," he said softly.

Negaduck snarled beside Max, no words just a guttural sound that caused goosebumps to erupt on Max's arms. Good thing he was on their side.

"Probably," Gosalyn said with a shrug as her hands returned to her sides. "My successes aren't just mine. I rely on teamwork."

"How trite," said the spiked Darkwing.

"You used to know how valuable a team can be," said Gosalyn.

Which was the wrong thing to say because the spiked Darkwing motioned with a hand and the black robots surged towards them.

Several things happened at once.

Negaduck pulled out a handful of grenades, yanking the pins out and hurtling them towards the hoard.

Gosalyn reached back and grabbed another arrow.

Once the grenades had cleared the area the four of them stood in, she dropped to a knee and stabbed the arrow into the ground. An electric blue energy erupted from the arrow and shot out on either side of it, creating something like a force field between them and the robots.

The black robots slammed into the force field, crumpling to the ground as Negaduck's grenades detonated, flames and explosions erupting in several huge sections, the areas where the liquid had spread taking the most damage. It must have been some sort of flame accelerant.

The city rocked with the force of the explosions. Stellar and Negaduck crouched down behind the force field. Max joined them, glad to be close to the ground as the streets shook beneath his feet.

Yeah.

He wasn't ready.

"I wasn't expecting Darkwarrior Loser," Negaduck growled as he watched the damage their initial attack had wrought.

"That does complicate things," Gosalyn agreed, also studying the battlefield and wincing as another wave of robots slammed into the force field, causing it to waver. "Where's Ana?"

"She likes to watch battles from afar so she can give orders to the bots," Stellar said, eyeing the spiked Darkwing. (Darkwarrior, Max guessed based on their conversation.) Looking backwards at the city spread behind them, Stellar continued, "She's probably gone looking for a perch. I'm guessing a tall building so she can keep an eye on everything."

"Cool cool cool," said Gosalyn, looking out over the army that was starting to advance, large chunks of their numbers destroyed from the explosions. "I'll go look for Ana and try to find a place to fire my arrows from. You guys good down here?"

As she asked, a large military grade plane landed nearby, its hatch lowering to reveal a couple dozen S.H.U.S.H. agents, who swarmed out onto the field wearing tactical gear. They opened fire on the bots. Three more planes landed nearby, creating a barrier between the city and the robots as more S.H.U.S.H. agents ran out into the fray.

Max breathed a sigh of relief but Negaduck scoffed. "We would have been. These idiots will just get in my way."

"Don't kill anything missing circuitry," Gosalyn instructed.

Negaduck rolled his eyes and Stellar chuckled, which caused Negaduck to glare at him.

Gosalyn leaned closer to Max, saying, "They tend to be vulnerable at their joints, so you can aim your spear there. Take out the guns on the Darkwarrior bots before you get in close range. Keep an eye out and your shield high." She brought up a hand to run it through his hair, smiling at him. "And stick close to Negaduck."

"I'm not a babysitter!"

Max studied Gosalyn, struck by how the nearby flames had made her red hair look as though it was ablaze. He leaned down and kissed her briefly. "Stay safe."

"You too. I'll see you after this is over." Gosalyn reached forward and tugged on Negaduck's cape. When he looked back at her, his eyes were softer than Max had ever seen, his expression warring between shuttered affection and gripping worry. "Please watch over Dad and Max."

"Yeah, yeah," he sighed, but the venom was gone. "Give 'em hell."

Gosalyn saluted before standing and jogging off into the city.

Making sure his shield was tight on his arm for the fifth time, Max gripped onto his spear and stood. Stellar and Negaduck flanked him as another black Darkwarrior bot slammed into the force field, causing it to shatter and disappear.

"Stick close," Negaduck muttered, pulling out a chainsaw and revving it. "And don't do anything stupid."

Max cracked a weak smile before he sucked in a deep breath. Then charged the bots with Negaduck on one side and Stellar on the other.


	10. Waltz Of The Flowers

Max was doing better than Negaduck thought he would. This wasn't an ideal first battle, but he was holding his own. Negaduck had been right in suggesting the spear and shield as Max had good instincts and excellent hand-eye coordination from his years of playing sports.

Once he got over his initial nerves, Max was fighting like he had been doing it for years, taking out bots left and right. His shield kept him safe not just from wayward shots from the bots flying around them, but also from the robot carnage that rained down. He was even using his spear as a staff to sweep out the feet of some bots or to block oncoming attacks as well as stabbing the point through the robot's armor.

Yeah, okay, so Negaduck _was_ keeping a pretty close eye on the kid. So sue him.

As for his other promise of watching Darkwing, he hadn't found his purple-clad double yet. To be fair, Darkwing _had_ started the battle on the opposite end of the robot army, so he wasn't _entirely_ at fault.

Granted, was he looking for him now?

No.

No he was not.

Negaduck was currently mowing his way through the opposing army looking for any sign of Darkwarrior, who had retreated into the fray after the fight had started. The coward. Just wait until Negaduck got his hands around that stupid throat.

Christine had been a surprise player, though not a shock. Negaduck had deposited the girl in the Darkwarrior universe himself, thinking the two would compliment each other in their relentless journeys for justice. It would seem they complimented each other a little _too_ well.

She'd disappeared pretty quickly, too, once the battle had started, climbing up into one of those tanks.

Bringing his chainsaw up, Negaduck decapitated a bot and there. From the corner of his eye. Purple.

So. Darkwarrior had gotten brave enough to show his face.

Whirling around, Negaduck gave chase, cutting off robot limbs and dodging a shot from a Darkwarrior bot before he leapt into the air, tackling the figure in purple. They tumbled over one another before sliding to a stop. Negaduck sat atop his prey, holding his chainsaw aloft as he came face to face with the barrel of a gun.

A very familiar looking gun.

"Damnit," Negaduck growled, killing the motor on his chainsaw and dropping it to his side.

"Why are you tackling _me_?" Darkwing cried, his voice going into a higher register in his surprise as he, too, dropped his weapon. "Did you forget we're on the same side?"

"Keep whining and I just might," Negaduck growled, standing up and offering Darkwing a hand. Darkwing eyed him warily before grabbing ahold and allowing Negaduck to haul him back onto his feet.

"You see Darkwarrior?" Negaduck asked, turning around and yanking his chainsaw back to life. He took out a few advancing bots as a smoke canister exploded somewhere behind him and obstructed his vision. Stupid. Useless. Why did Negaduck agree to fight alongside these morons?

"No," said Darkwing, pushing his back up against Negaduck's as the cloud of smoke thickened around them. Negaduck glanced over his shoulder at his no-longer-adversary only to find Darkwing was looking at him. "I think he's in one of the tanks, but I don't know which one."

"Fucking hell," Negaduck breathed as Darkwing pulled out another canister and shoved it into his gun.

"Where's Gosalyn?"

"Getting a higher vantage point." Negaduck scanned the city rooftops, hoping she was safely situated atop of one of them. That she'd managed to subdue Ana and was working on taking out as many bots as she could.

"And Max?"

Negaduck pointed to the right. As the smoke started to clear, Max could be seen stabbing his spear into the ground and using his forward momentum to swing himself up and roundhouse kick a bot in the head before landing back on his feet and yanking his spear free. He lunged, embedding the blade into another bot before advancing, his shield held high as a inert bot came crashing down from the sky.

"So, he's doing okay, then," Darkwing remarked dryly.

"Better than you are," Negaduck said, a smirk on his beak.

"Well, you were his teacher," Darkwing said, looking at Negaduck with something like respect. "And you know your way around weaponry."

"Whatever." Negaduck shrugged off the compliment, not entirely sure what to do with it. "I need to find Darkwarrior." The smoke around them dissipated and Negaduck cut down a few more bots who turned to attack once they saw the two mallards standing there instead of a cloud of blue smoke.

"Be careful," Darkwing called as Negaduck took off towards the nearest tank.

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

Negaduck didn't have time to really consider, using discarded and broken robot parts to leap up onto the side of the tank. He set his chainsaw down, pulling out a pistol, and made his way to the hatch. Yanking it open, he aimed his gun inside and peered towards the driver's seat.

Empty. A bot was at the helm, driving and not even realizing there was a visitor.

Rolling his eyes, Negaduck grabbed out a grenade, pulled the pin, and dropped it inside the tank. Scooping up his chainsaw, he pocketed the pistol and leapt off the back, grabbing ahold of a Darkwarrior bot as the explosion sounded. The bot shot forward, surprised at having the additional weight. Negaduck stabbed the bot right between the eyes with his chainsaw and climbed up onto the bot's beak. Gripping the handle, he yanked the chainsaw to life, the robot smoking as its innards were shredded by the blades.

Another Darkwarrior bot was racing towards them, probably intent on taking out Negaduck. But he killed the engine and yanked his weapon free, leaping to the ground as they collided into a combustion of flames.

Landing on his feet like a cat, Negaduck looked around for the next tank. It wasn't too far off, and he tore towards it, taking out any robots that got in his way.

This tank he climbed onto from the back, again stashing his chainsaw and grabbing a pistol. He pulled open the hatch and found a pair of familiar green eyes looking back at him.

But with brown hair and wearing a police officer's uniform.

"You're not who I want," Negaduck growled as he put his gun away and dug around in his pockets.

"I never was," Christine said simply.

"Oh boo fucking hoo," Negaduck spat, pulling out a bottle of super glue which he poured along the rim of the circular hatch. "I was never what you wanted either."

"I was a child!" Christine cried.

"And I'll take responsibility for those early years. I was shitty. You were put into a situation that you never should have been in, and I feel bad. But you're not a kid anymore, and this," he gestured to the fight raging around them, "is all on you." Negaduck slammed the hatch shut and pressed down, pleased to see some excess glue leak down over the sides. He stuffed the glue away and found his can of spray paint. Walking around the perimeter of the tank, he sprayed a few big red circles with a line through them so he'd know which one Christine was huddled in before he pocketed the paint and leapt off the tank.

He fought his way over to the next tank, which he blew up upon finding it was also empty.

Negaduck was leaping off of that one when he was suddenly side-swiped and snagged out of the air. He hurtled to the ground, pinned to the muddy Audubon Bay banks beneath whoever had managed to grab ahold of him.

"Aw, man," came a disappointed voice and Negaduck looked over his shoulder.

Darkwing was holding him down, a look of disappointment darkening his features. "You're not Darkwarrior."

"How the hell— we don't even wear the same colors!" Negaduck pushed himself up onto his feet when Darkwing let him stand.

"It's getting dark!" Darkwing put his hands on his hips and glared at him.

"I can understand color blindness, but I'm not wearing those damn skewers on my shoulders—"

"Listen, I'm not used to looking for Darkwarrior. It's second nature to go after you."

"Ah ha! So it was a _deliberate_ attack!"

"Negaduck—"

"You're not denying it!"

Two knives hurtled between Darkwing and Negaduck, narrowly missing them, and the blades embedded themselves into two robots, one from the Posiverse and the other from Darkwarrior's legion, who had been creeping up on them. Both mallards turned to see Stellar standing not far off, a look of mild irritation on his face.

"Pay attention!" he snapped before continuing on.

"That _is_ combat 101," said Posiduck as he plunged his sword into a bot and covered his head from the spray of sparks.

"Don't _you_ start, Captain Hook!" Negaduck yelled as he pulled out his chainsaw. Darkwing rolled his eyes before he aimed his gas gun and fired while Negaduck sprinted towards his next target.

There weren't as many tanks in Darkwarrior's arsenal as Negaduck had initially thought. He searched all of them with surprising efficiency, blowing the empty ones to kingdom come until all that remained was the one that held Christine.

Snarling, Negaduck turned to survey the battlefield.

Where the hell was that maniac?


	11. O Holy Night

Gosalyn reached the rooftop of the First National Bank and ran towards the edge, scanning the other buildings of St. Canard for any sight of Ana.

It had been some time since she'd been on this rooftop. She usually opted for the Second National since it was her rendezvous point with Negaduck. This building was where she and her father had fought Taurus Bulba all those years ago, when she'd been a nine-year-old child and he a struggling vigilante.

The explosion that had nearly taken Darkwing's life still manifested in her dreams. It was seared into the backs of her eyelids, a constant reminder of what she had come so close to losing. If the explosion had truly taken Darkwing, she never would have been adopted. Never would have had the life she knew now.

Shivering — from the chill of the night or from her memories, she wasn't sure — Gosalyn scanned the city. Ana wore dark clothing; she was going to be hard to pinpoint in the night. But people didn't often stand on rooftops, so Gosalyn was hopeful that she could find her.

Another explosion cracked through the night and Gosalyn's eyes were drawn to the fight waging near the Bridge. She was too far away to be of much help from here. But she hadn't chosen the First National for its position; she'd come here for its height. If Ana was using a rooftop for her own tactical advantage, this is where Gosalyn would be able to see her.

After subduing Ana, Gosalyn could move nearer the battlefield. Be more useful...

"I knew you were arrogant enough to come looking for me," came a voice from behind her.

Oh.

That was why she couldn't find Ana.

Because she was on _this_ roof.

"I don't know about _arrogant_ ," Gosalyn said, turning around to face Ana, who was lingering in the shadows. Her black military uniform blended into the darkness seamlessly, the white collar of her shirt and metallic accessories the only give aways of her position. "More tactical to take out the biggest threat."

A smile spread across Ana's beak, causing Gosalyn to shudder at the sight. She walked forward, her heeled boots clicking on the rooftop. "You are more perceptive than I initially gave you credit for."

Gosalyn eyed her.

Ana held her gaze.

Then she struck, hitting the inside of Gosalyn's wrist with the side of her hand, the bow dropping with a clatter.

Massaging the tender muscle that was now throbbing, Gosalyn glared at Ana.

She stepped forward and grabbed Gosalyn's bow, studying it. "You've fought well thus far. You and your little ragtag team."

"Yeah, that's kind of what we do," Gosalyn said, eyes darting down to her bow then back up to Ana's face. How to get that back?

She still had a collapsible bow attached to her quiver. But she didn't want to give away that particular advantage until absolutely necessary.

Ana seemed to have gleaned everything she needed from the bow because she dropped her hands to her sides, her grip slack on the weapon. "I would offer my compliments, but the fight is not won yet."

Another explosion echoed from down below and Gosalyn grinned. "Seems like it's getting close, though."

Ana, also, smiled.

Gosalyn felt a sense of crushing dread constrict her lungs at the sight.

But she kept her own grin in place.

"The last time we met," said Ana, tucking her hands, and Gosalyn's bow, behind her back as she began to pace, "you chastised me on not training my officials in hand to hand combat. Which was a fair assessment; it had been something overlooked in our program. And we have compensated for that, as I am sure you have surmised by now." Ana brought her free hand around to motion out towards the battle raging in the distance. "However, you have deeply underestimated our ability to strategize."

Ana walked towards the ledge, eyes out towards the fight. Her back was to Gosalyn.

Her bow was _right there_. Within reach if she darted forward and snagged it out of Ana's loose grip.

This was probably a trap, right? It seemed like a trap. There was no way Ana would take away Gosalyn's weapon only to have it won back so easily.

Right?

 _Right_?

God, she was having a difficult time convincing herself that this was a bad idea.

If only her father was here with his vast knowledge of criminal histories and tendencies. Or Negaduck with his paranoia.

But they weren't here.

And neither were their different areas of expertise.

She only had a few seconds to decide.

To make a move.

And she'd wasted enough time already.

Taking in a deep breath, Gosalyn dashed forward on the exhale, reaching out to grab her bow.

Paranoia would have served her well here.

Because it _had_ been a trap.

Ana moved cleanly out of the way and Gosalyn, not having anything to brace herself against, careened forward.

Towards the edge of the building.

Arms pinwheeling, she tried to stop.

But she was already moving too fast.

Just before she stepped over the edge onto nothing, something caught ahold of her quiver and yanked her backwards.

Gosalyn breathed deeply as she stared downwards, the city splayed out dizzyingly far below. When she'd caught her breath, her heart still racing, she glanced backwards.

And found Ana, holding onto Gosalyn's quiver.

She nodded towards the fight. "This is only the first wave. Something to exhaust all of you before we strike again. And again. The tactical minds of businessmen are truly unparalleled."

Ana looked at Gosalyn, that smile still very much in place.

Gosalyn never knew when to stop. Even when she saw all the warning signs. Even with her father's advice and Negaduck's training. She ran in headlong, consequences be damned.

She smirked at Ana. "Sure, great minds and all that, but you still added combat to their training. Which means my mind was more tactical than theirs."

Ana's face clouded with fury.

Holding Gosalyn's gaze, she dropped the bow off the edge of the building.

Gosalyn reached for it, but it was useless, the curved metal tumbling down the 105 stories towards the ground. "Not cool," she said.

"Apologies," Ana said. "I did not realize you were so attached to your bow. Feel free to go after it."

Go after—?

Ana loosened her grip on the quiver, Gosalyn falling forward slightly. Her stomach swooped at the sheer height, the dizzying distance that lay between her and the ground below.

Then.

The straps of her quiver slithered away.

And Ana gave an almighty shove.

Gosalyn managed to turn around in the milliseconds she had before plummeting downwards.

She saw her quiver held in Ana's grasp, her free hand cradling a blade that flashed in the lights shining around them. The straps of Gosalyn's quiver dangled uselessly, sliced clean through on one side.

Then Gosalyn fell.

Fell down the 105 stories, windows flying past.

Tumbling through the air.

She'd felt this weightless thrill before. The gut-wrenching heart pounding anxiety. Gravity weighing down on you, pulling you faster and faster towards the ground.

The first time had been on this very building. With Taurus Bulba. He'd dropped her several times from this height to blackmail Darkwing into giving him the code to the Ramrod.

But there was no condor that would snatch her up before she hit the street.

No Thunderquack to come to her rescue.

There weren't even any extra arrows that could be deployed to stop her descent. Her bow was long gone, her quiver back up on the roof with Ana.

Nothing.

There was nothing.

Well.

Her luck had to run out at some point, she supposed.

The wind whipped around her, almost as if trying to slow her fall.

But she cut through it effortlessly.

Careening ever closer to the asphalt below.

Turning her head towards the battle waging several blocks away, Gosalyn thought of everyone over there. How they would take this. She didn't care much about herself, though she certainly didn't _want_ to die.

But Max.

Launchpad.

Negaduck.

Her father.

They would be crushed.

And it was for them, more than for herself, that she wished desperately for this to be different. That she had one last trick up her sleeve.

Or that she could have said her goodbyes.

Closing her eyes, Gosalyn relaxed.

Awaiting the endless darkness to take her.

Hopefully the impact wouldn't be too pain—


	12. How Great Thou Art

As more and more and _more_ tanks exploded in balls of fire and fury the likes of which Darkwing had never seen before, he was increasingly grateful to have Negaduck on his side in this fight.

A thought which, five years ago, would have shocked him. To be grateful to _fight alongside Negaduck_.

But underneath that terrifying temper and action first mentality resided an extremely competent fighter who was able to focus on the big picture and eliminate the smaller pawns one by one until only the king was left standing.

And the way he handled this invading army was, really, a thing of beauty. Carefully and strategically taking out the tanks, the big hitters, while searching for the commander.

Darkwing became jealous all the time, usually over very stupid and nonsensical things. But this. This went beyond jealousy. It had transcended, somewhere along the line, to respect and gratitude.

_Thank goodness Negaduck and I are working together._

A bot charged him from the side and Darkwing easily side stepped it, tripping it chromed-head over chromed-feet onto the ground where he shot it with a putty canister, the gelatinous substance oozing into the circuitry.

Standing straight and re-loading his gas gun, Darkwing surveyed the battlefield. Most of the bots were reduced to piles of scrap metal, exposed wires spilling out from gashes in their armor with small sparks fizzing at the ends.

He had to admit, he'd been expecting more of a challenge from the combined forces of Darkwarrior Duck and the Posiverse government. This had been pretty easily won, even though Darkwing and his allies had been grossly outnumbered. Negaduck had eliminated their main opponents by blowing the tanks sky high. Posiduck and Stellar had fought against their Posiverse bots before, so they knew their weaknesses and how to corral them to take out as many as possible with the least amount of effort.

And Max. The kid was doing very well. His athleticism certainly helped, but his training with Negaduck had clearly done wonders as he easily carved himself a path through the robots. Sure, he'd picked up some of Negaduck's bad habits like throwing himself into the fray and just going hog wild on the opponents, or not asking for help when he seemed to be overwhelmed, but overall Darkwing was very impressed. Max had chosen the right mentor.

A small group of robots were huddled nearby, Posiduck and Stellar approaching from one side and Max from the other. Darkwing aimed and fired his smoke into the middle of the bots, causing them to beep in malfunction as the three surged forward and felled them all.

Yeah. Kind of disappointing.

There was still no sign of Darkwarrior. Or of Ana. Darkwing had been dreading seeing her again, since she was a mirror of his mother. He and Negaduck tended to freeze when Ana came on the scene, so it was nice they hadn't run into her yet.

Odd, but nice.

Negaduck huffed irritably next to him and Darkwing glanced over as he re-loaded his gas gun.

"Still can't find him?" Darkwing asked.

"The coward," Negaduck snarled as he, too, surveyed the battle before them. "Was this it? This was the fight that people from another universe came to warn us about?"

"I was just wondering the same thing," Darkwing said, looking over towards the S.H.U.S.H. helicopters that were circling the city. One was hovering near the First National Bank. Maybe a few wayward bots had scattered into the city and S.H.U.S.H. had eradicated them.

Negaduck grabbed out his chainsaw and yanked it to life, the motor roaring as he revved it. "Here we go."

"That was right next to my ear," Darkwing said, quickly studying the battlefield to see what Negaduck saw.

"It was closer to mine than yours," Negaduck countered, his voice dropping to its lower register. Like a jungle cat emitting a low rumble before catching its prey. "Don't be so dramatic."

What was he seeing?

"That's really funny, coming from you."

What was Darkwing missing?

Oh.

Well, to be fair, he hadn't been _looking_ in that direction.

Darkwarrior Duck and Ana walked side by side calmly out onto the battlefield. She was carrying something sizable in one hand and looked far too smug. Based on the direction they were walking from, they had been in the city mere moments ago. Why had they returned to the fight if they had already been in St. Canard proper?

Negaduck prowled over towards them and Darkwing was quick to follow, not wanting to send his ally into an encounter without any backup. Stellar, Posiduck, and Max, having no more robotic targets to fight, also joined Negaduck, the five of them making a decent barricade. Stellar was taking out bullets from his belt and loading them into his pistols. Posiduck was swishing his rapier through the air in a way he probably thought was impressive. Max stood resolute, spear in one hand and shield in the other. Negaduck's chainsaw was still humming and Darkwing took up his position beside him, gas gun at the ready.

Darkwarrior sized them all up. "Where's Christine?"

Christine? Darkwing hadn't seen her in… well, it had been years. He'd figured that she was just in the Negaverse, trying to spread her good. How did Darkwarrior know about her?

"Stuck in the last tank," Negaduck said, nodding over his shoulder.

Definitely a conversation they'd be having later.

Darkwarrior smiled, a slow menacing thing that sent shivers dancing down Darkwing's spine. "Then you're surrounded."

Darkwing looked back and, sure enough, the tank that had been spray painted with red "no" signs was parked directly behind them.

Max — Max Goof, who was fighting his _very first fight_ — shrugged and said, "Well, you're outnumbered."

"Not for too much longer, I'd imagine," Ana said, that smile still very firmly in place and putting Darkwing on edge.

She held out the large whatever-it-was she'd been holding for them all to see. It was Gosalyn's quiver. The three straps dangling off to one side.

That wasn't right. The straps hung from both sides.

Also: what?

Ana studied the quiver with some disdain. "You see, when someone learns of their loved one's passing, they tend to leave. I assume you will all be doing the same."

Darkwarrior blinked and looked at Ana.

"What are you talking about?" Darkwing asked.

"Where's Gosalyn?" Negaduck growled, revving his chainsaw.

That was a way better question.

"Fell, poor thing. Right off the edge of the First National."

Fell?

That didn't seem right at all.

Gosalyn wasn't clumsy like that.

Besides, she had arrows for…

Ana had the quiver.

So, there'd been no arrows for Gosalyn to use.

Then Ana's words, and their full impact, caught up to Darkwing.

_You see, when someone learns of their loved one's passing, they tend to leave._

_Fell, poor thing. Right off the edge of the First National._

The First National. That was where Darkwing had seen the S.H.U.S.H. helicopter hovering.

If Ana said anything else, Darkwing never knew. He, Negaduck, and Max took off in the direction of the First National Bank, Darkwing tucking away his gas gun and pulling out his phone. He barely looked at the screen as he called Launchpad.

Negaduck was faster than Darkwing and Max, mostly because he darted headlong into traffic, cut corners, knocked people over, and barreled onward, never looking back. Max and Darkwing followed in his wake, apologizing to those he'd taken out and waving to the drivers who honked at them.

Launchpad picked up on the third ring.

Not waiting for a greeting, Darkwing said, "Send some S.H.U.S.H. agents to the battlefield. Darkwarrior, Ana, and Christine are all there and they need to be taken into custody."

"DW, is it true?" Launchpad asked.

Darkwing attributed the lack of air in his lungs from his running through St. Canard. "Is what true?"

"Is Gos…."

"Is Gos _what_?" Darkwing blamed his yelling on the car horns blasting around him.

"Is… is she… gone?"

" _Gone where_?" Darkwing demanded. His tone was harsher than he meant it to be.

His heart was pounding.

Max had started sprinting outright as he heard half of the conversation. His legs were long enough that he almost caught up to Negaduck, who was scrambling down the last block. He skittered to halt at the corner.

Max stopped beside him.

Darkwing stopped on his other side.

All three looked down the street towards the bank.

Where police cars, an ambulance, and a fire truck were parked, lights all flashing. Yellow crime scene tape extended the length of the block. The S.H.U.S.H. helicopter was still hovering over the building, a spotlight shining down onto the sidewalk far below. Illuminating a spot where EMTs and police officers were crowded.

Lifting something up on a stretcher.

The phone dropped out of Darkwing's grasp as he stumbled forward. If it hit the ground, he didn't hear it. He didn't hear anything but a static. Couldn't see anything beyond that stretcher. Trying to see who it was.

But they were in a body bag.

That was zipped up.

Something grabbed ahold of Darkwing and held him back. He fought and struggled, kicking out, maybe even screamed something. The static was still all he could really make out.

A sharp pain blossomed in his shoulders and he blinked.

The world came back into focus.

Too loud. Too bright. Jarring and uncomfortable.

"I will not let you!" came a voice near his ear.

Darkwing started and looked towards the noise and found.

Gryzlikoff. Holding Darkwing back, his claws digging into his shoulders to keep him here. He was panting in the effort and Darkwing forgot to be proud of that.

Gryzlikoff met Darkwing's eyes. "I do not want you to have those images to be the last thing you see of her. It is best if you remember her as she was."

Her.

_You see, when someone learns of their loved one's passing, they tend to leave._

_Fell, poor thing. Right off the edge of the First National._

_Is Gos…. Is… is she… gone?_

No.

No no no no no no.

Darkwing looked back towards the bank. To the yellow tape. The flashing lights. The officers standing around. The S.H.U.S.H. personnel carrying that stretcher so very far away.

J. Gander walked towards him, a look of devastation on his face. Making him look much older than he was.

He surveyed Darkwing, those blue eyes not sparkling. Looking at him with sadness. "I'm so sorry, my boy. We will, of course, take care of everything. Our forensic scientists will be in touch if anything should come up. When you're ready, come to my office and we can discuss our bereavement policies."

Bereavement.

The state of loss when someone close to an individual has died.

A simple concept, a single word, for something so monumental and all encompassing.

The static returned.

Everything blurred out of focus.

The pain in Darkwing's shoulders exploded as Gryzlikoff's claws dug in fully, trying to keep Darkwing on his feet.

Nothing would ever bring him to standing again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the song isn't, strictly speaking, a Christmas song in the traditional sense. But it was released on Pentatonix's Christmas album and is one of the most used songs at funerals.
> 
> Also, I'm sorry.


	13. Greensleeves

Christine had never been arrested before. She'd done the arresting plenty of times; to be on the other side of it was humiliating. Everyone staring at her as she was loaded into the back of a police car. She got her own, just like Ana and Darkwarrior, all three cars peeling away with the wail of sirens.

She had to keep reminding herself that this was all apart of their plan.

_Ana had stood perfectly still before them, hands tucked neatly behind her as she'd detailed, "We distract them with something, pull them away from the battlefield, then go willingly into whatever prison system they have. We bide our time and, when they least suspect it, break out to continue our assault on the town."_

" _What distraction would be big enough to pull them all away from a fight half-won?" Darkwarrior had asked, one of his eyebrows raised. Intrigued but not convinced._

" _Leave that to me," Ana had said, a cunning smile gracing her beak._

Whatever Ana had done had worked. Darkwing, Negaduck, and any other notable players were long gone by the time Christine had been released from the tank.

But Darkwarrior's expression alerted her to something being off.

Ana appeared normal by Christine's definition of the word. She maintained that easy smile and the serene look in her eyes. A S.H.U.S.H. agent had picked up what looked like a quiver from the ground and had carried it away as the three of them were loaded into their respective cars.

Darkwarrior had watched that agent like a hawk. Eyes focused on the quiver, his beak pulled tight into a thin line across his face.

Something about the quiver was familiar to Christine, but she couldn't figure out _what_.

St. Canard was fully decorated for Christmas, and she eyed everything ruefully. Christmas had never been a time for celebration in the Negaverse; it had been a time to hide from Negaduck's wrath. To wonder if celebrating was worth the inevitable fury that would follow if Negaduck discovered you.

The Masked Menace had never paid any mind to the Easter holiday, so Christine had taken a liking to that one. It also tended to symbolize renewal and rebirth, which she was more inclined to. Christmas did have a warmth, though, that Christine had always admired.

She didn't feel any of it now, and the fact that it was just out of reach was a torment she was used to.

Wanting something so badly but not being able to get ahold of it.

There.

Her life in a single sentence.

If getting arrested outside a city was humiliating, then getting processed at the police station was even worse. Taking her photo, gathering her feather prints, sending her into the dark cell under the station where Negaduck had once been locked up.

Stellar had been with Christine then. The mallard had been her childhood hero. But he, like most things in Christine's life, had turned out to be a lie. He'd only focused on torturing his son rather than enacting any change to the Negaverse.

"Well done," Ana said once the three of them were left alone, the police officer's footfalls getting fainter as they ascended into the station above. "Once the second wave of robots arrives, we can take this world under our jurisdiction."

"Their fighting techniques were incredibly effective," said Christine, looking at Ana and noting that the older woman looked as composed as ever. "What's to say they wouldn't win next time?"

"Oh," said Ana, her smile growing wider, "they won't be fighting anymore."

Darkwarrior looked to Ana. "You took away their reason to fight," he said, his voice gruff.

"Precisely," Ana purred.

What had _happened_?

Christine cast her mind back, going over the plan as she remembered it.

She had been left in charge of the bots on the battlefield.

Ana had gone into the city to get a higher vantage point and give Christine suggestions on how to move the troops.

Darkwarrior had gone with Ana into the city to run interference, make sure she wasn't disturbed and to try to stop anyone who would get in her way.

But here they were, locked up, Ana confident, Darkwarrior visibly upset, and Christine confused.

She was sure she had missed several very important steps.

"And," said Ana, "I managed to eliminate a particularly annoying pest at the same time. Not a bad start to this take over, if I may say."

Eliminated a particularly annoying pest?

Did it have anything to do with the quiver Christine had seen earlier?

Gosalyn had a quiver.

What an odd thing to remember.

But it was true, one had been strapped around Gosalyn's street clothes when they'd met up before the battle started. Gosalyn, like Ana, had disappeared quickly after the fighting started.

Was it all connected?

Had Ana done something to Gosalyn?

" _You took away their reason to fight."_

" _And I managed to eliminate a particularly annoying pest at the same time."_

Christine met Darkwarrior's eyes and read in them the same hesitation she was sure was reflected in hers.

Ana might have gone rogue.

They'd been clear from the beginning: no violence.

If Ana had violated their one rule...

Darkwarrior sat on the cot in his cell, sighing as he buried his face in his hands. Christine felt a shudder ripple down her spine at the sight.

He was always stalwart. To see him in such a state of what she could only describe as unrest was alarming.

Glancing between Ana and Darkwarrior, Christine wondered if she had done the right thing, signing up to participate in this invasion. And if there would be time to figure out where she stood before she was forced onto one side or another.


	14. Coventry Carol

After seeing the crime scene, after confirming that Gosalyn, his girlfriend and better half, was truly gone, Max turned around.

And ran.

He couldn't bear to stay.

So he stumbled out of the city, towards the Audubon Bay Bridge and up to Darkwing Tower.

He had to keep reminding himself to breathe, deeply and through the nose. Even though his lungs couldn't seem to expand all the way. And no amount of deep breaths soothed the pain lancing through him, clawing at his insides, like some creature desperate to get out. Any moment now, he was sure, it would burst through his chest and the suffocation would be over. A gentle forgiving blackness would take him away from this awful place, far from the new reality where he had been left alone.

But the blackness never came, no matter how little air Max took in or how much the thing in his chest squeezed and squeezed and _squeezed_.

Once he was safely ensconced in the Tower, Max finally collapsed. Relished the biting cold of the cement as it caused his kneecaps to shudder, jarring and dull. His shield and spear clattered away from him, neither of which he could be bothered to pick up. There were the sounds of clamoring feet and a pounding on the metal staircase, but it was only on the periphery. It was nothing to the rushing sound in his head, the rattling of his own breath in his lungs.

Gosalyn would never be able to breathe again.

Something like a sob escaped him as hands, gentle but unfamiliar, gingerly took hold.

"Max?" came a voice that was also familiar. But it wasn't who he wanted. Wanted with a harsh desperation that he felt fragile and fractured, ready to collapse into tiny fragmented pieces.

Scrooge's grip tightened fractionally, trying to hold him up. But gravity was an unstoppable force and Max had little resistance to much of anything. He slumped forward, the hands scrambling as Scrooge repositioned himself to catch Max as he fell.

"Where's Dad?" Max asked, needing to know. Needing him. Everything else was falling apart, Max included, and Goofy was the only person who could help put some of it back together.

"I'll call him," Scrooge assured. "Do you want to lie down?"

He already practically was, but he nodded anyway.

Scrooge hauled him up to standing, his strength greater than Max had given him credit for, and led him over towards a bed.

The smell hit him first and Max collapsed onto the mattress with another sob. Gosalyn's bed. The one she used after long and strenuous missions.

The sheets were a haphazard mess at best, rumpled piles of fabric at worst. She never did make the bed. And it smelled just like her, the cucumber and green tea soap that she used. He'd gone grocery shopping once, and hadn't been able to find her shampoo in the _multiple aisles_ that female hair product was shelved in, so he'd called her in a panic. She'd laughed before telling him to look for a green bottle with purple flowers on it. " _Cucumber and green tea,_ " she'd said, and he had been able to hear the smile through the phone.

Max felt the tears start to slide down his cheeks as he curled into a ball on the bed, the blankets coming up to wrap around him.

That invisible monster was constricting his lungs again, powerful iron talons wrapping around his chest and cutting off his airflow. Max buried his face in the pillow, the sweet scent of Gosalyn's shampoo flooding his senses. He couldn't take it. Wasn't able to look around and see a world that she wouldn't traipse through again. Where she wouldn't burst into laughter at the most inappropriate moments. Where she wouldn't look up at him with that light shining in her eyes, arms warm as they encircled his waist and she leaned into him, solid and comforting.

Another sob exploded from him before that monster was squeezing at his rib cage again.

God.

He'd had all of his last moments with her and hadn't even realized.

The last time he would ever wake up first with his arms around her. Enjoying the quiet stillness of the morning as she slumbered on.

The last time he would make her breakfast.

The last time they would play video games together.

The last time he had seen her smile. Heard her laugh.

The two of them had been just starting their life together when she'd been ripped away.

There were a couple shows on Netflix they had promised not to watch without each other. He was sure there were leftovers in the fridge that she had promised to finish (she'd been bad with finishing her leftovers, always coming home with more food that she'd picked up on the way home). The blanket on the couch was definitely a wadded bundle tucked in the folds; she rarely put it away once she'd cast it aside after movie night or reading her comics. Then there was that: one of their favorite comic series had been re-released as a complete limited edition set, all of which they'd bought, and the first book was still sitting on their coffee table as she'd made her way through the volume.

She still owed him money from all the bets they'd placed that she'd lost. He had never listened to that podcast she'd been raving about for months. The laundry hadn't been done before they'd left because they hadn't decided whose turn it was to do it.

Phantom fingers slipped through his hair, the caress reassuring. Echoes of her steady voice reverberated in his head, of Gosalyn giving him instructions.

" _Stay safe,"_ he had said.

" _You too,"_ she had said. " _I'll see you after this is over."_

Max had felt the largeness of that moment. Felt how monumental it was. He hadn't been sure why at the time.

But now, looking back, he knew.

It was the last time he'd seen her. Would ever see her again.

If only he'd taken the opportunity. Told her how much she meant to him. How she had changed his life. The ways she had altered his world view and had made him a better version of himself.

But he hadn't.

And now she would never know.

Something soft and warm wrapped around Max's shoulders and some part of him knew he should be startled, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He turned his face up, blinking against the harsh lighting in the Tower and saw his father.

Max released another sob and launched himself at Goofy, his arms wrapping around his father's neck in a vice.

Goofy was there.

Even though Gosalyn had left him alone, Max would never be alone with Goofy there.

His father gathered him close, a hand coming up to cradle the back of his head and suddenly, being held like this, Max felt all of ten years old again. A feeling he relished because if he was truly ten, then none of this would have happened. There was still time. He would meet Gosalyn all over again and fall in love. Maybe warn her against such a dangerous career choice.

But Max wasn't ten anymore.

Gosalyn was gone.

And he had been left behind.

He would have to figure out how to live his life without her when all he had been doing the past four years was picturing their future together.

Goofy's hand slid down to rub circles on his back. He said softly, his voice oh so gentle, "I wish there was something I could do so you wouldn't have to go through this."

Max wished it, too. Wished desperately that magic existed so they could fix it. That science had been advanced enough to travel through time.

But it hadn't. And magic was only in stories.

Max had never felt more helpless in his life.

Shifting so his head was resting on Goofy's chest, Max said, his voice cracking, "I-I feel like I can't breathe. Like I keep trying to catch my breath and I just can't do it." He sighed, more tears streaming down his cheeks.

Goofy squeezed him tighter. "It's gonna hurt a lot. For a long time. It'll never really stop hurtin'. Then, one day, you'll find you don't mind carryin' this pain around. It's somethin' that grows apart of you. Some days will be worse than others, but ya learn to live with it instead of waitin' for it to go away."

Max inhaled shakily, half a sob escaping. "I just want her back." Gripping onto his father, Max gave into the burning in his lungs. Tears spilled down unencumbered and he sobbed.

Goofy held Max long into the night, rubbing circles on his back with his cheek pressed gently to the top of Max's head.


	15. Coldest Winter

Max left almost immediately, his gaze unfocused. Instincts kicking in, taking him away from the scene. Somewhere safe. The "flight" in full force.

Darkwing had crumpled to a heap on the street, the bear — Gryzlikoff if Negaduck was remembering correctly — eventually giving up on trying to keep him upright and standing vigil, keeping everyone at bay.

Eventually, Launchpad soared in, looking as distressed as Negaduck had ever seen him. He coaxed Darkwing first to standing then shepherded him into the Thunderquack, flying them away. Presumably back to the Tower. Maybe to Avian Way. It was unclear. And didn't matter.

Once Darkwing had been collected, Gryzlikoff and the small goose with half moon spectacles moved back to the first responders. Talked for awhile, let the forensics team take photos and bag evidence. They watched as the scene was cleaned up. Then climbed into a nondescript black vehicle and drove off. Leaving the street looking as if nothing had happened. As if it hadn't been the epicenter of where the world changed.

Negaduck watched all of this transpire, cloaked in shadow and unmoving.

As soon as he'd seen the crime scene tape, the emergency vehicles flashing brighter than the Christmas lights lining the street, the EMT clinicians carrying a zipped body bag into the back of the ambulance, Negaduck had stepped back. Nestled himself into a small shopfront that was closed for the impending holiday, and took watch. Didn't move. Waited.

Until this moment, when the street was deserted.

No one paid him any mind.

It wasn't like anyone was going to come whisk Negaduck away to a haven of comfort. The only person in the world who might have thought to do such a thing was lying dead in a morgue downtown.

Negaduck was, not for the first time, truly and completely alone.

Slowly, he trudged up to the bank. Studied the sidewalk, the dark stain on the pavement. Looked up to the top of the building.

To gauge just how far she had fallen.

The First National was one of the tallest buildings in St. Canard. It must have taken around 30 seconds for her to fall.

And what had she been thinking in those moments?

Gosalyn.

His baby girl.

She'd been alone when it had happened. Her exit had been quiet. Solitary.

It went against everything Gosalyn was.

_Had been_.

Past tense was something he would need to become familiar with in regards to her.

The familiar rage, the frustration, the unbridled _chaos_ bubbled up from deep within.

This, at least, was an old friend.

But here was not the place. As much as he ached to level the building, see it reduced to nothing more than fine powder and small pieces of rubble, he couldn't do it. Not on this street.

The same street in another universe, though. Would be more acceptable.

So he left, walking backwards down the street, not removing his eyes from the building in question until the First National was a small dot. Only then did he turn away and sprint.

The snow packed along the gutters and into shopfronts deterred him not at all. Patches of ice made him slip, but he never fell. Too great was his trajectory. Practically flying downtown towards the Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice Bakery.

He flung himself inside, catapulted through to the back room where the cake that served as the doorway to the Negaverse stood, and leapt inside. The swirling rainbow of colors that filled the space between each universe was little more than a blur on the edges of his vision.

There was only one goal in mind: get back to the Negaverse. Ravage. Pulverize. Decimate. Until he could feel something again.

Destruction went beyond second nature to Negaduck. It was his primary nature. It was who he was.

These past few years he had deluded himself into thinking that he might be more than just wanton violence. Gosalyn had been convinced that there was another role for him. That he might be worth something, worth getting a second chance and given a new life.

But she was gone.

And in her absence, he saw that she had been wrong. How laughable it was to think that he was anything more than what had always been.

Dark devastation.

Vaulting out of the cake and into his own universe, Negaduck shuddered. Twitched in anticipation for the weapons he would wield. For the explosions and flames he would unleash. For the impending mutilation.

Scampering down the street, he reached into his cape, fingers itching for his matchbook, for kerosene.

But something stayed his hand.

God damned Main Street. With its glistening glimmering Christmas decorations.

It was under that lamppost, a wreath weighed with heavy bulbous ornaments hanging from it, that Negaduck had stood last year. Watched Gosalyn spin in circles with her arms outstretched, the lights softening her to something almost ethereal as snow fell down around her in airy flurries.

It was down this street that the two of them, arms linked, had strolled as he had told her about his childhood.

Now Negaduck slowed his agonizing pace, coming to a stop as he looked around his city.

And instead of seeing the derelict buildings and dilapidated streets, he saw Gosalyn.

Climbing over parked and rusting cars to avoid the swamp that the nearby intersection had transformed into. Glancing upwards towards the tops of the buildings to see which would become her perch for whatever mission they were on. Grinning when she found a tree that had appeared dead blossoming in the early stages of spring. Complaining there weren't any good water parks to visit here when it got too hot and muggy. Navigating the cracked and deteriorating sidewalk to hand him a cup of spiced cider because "there's a chill in the air and you're not wearing a coat." Stopping to build a snowman that looked alarmingly like Negaduck, including the fedora that she'd snatched off his head to place on the mound of snow.

And if he walked the city, he knew he would come across more memories. Like ghosts lingering.

He'd walk by the field where he had taught her how to shoot a gun.

Pass by St. Canard College, which had been reduced to rubble after their run-in with the Negaverse's version of S.H.U.S.H..

Wind his way through the miles of murals that acted as the history book of the city. The last dozen blocks filled with vibrant color and discernible shapes, unlike the swirling dark nothingness from his past.

Negaduck turned in place, searching for somewhere he could go to release all this pent up energy. Anywhere that didn't have memories of Gosalyn clinging to them that would be destroyed with the structures.

Call him sentimental. But he would rather turn the gun on himself instead of on something that held a memory of her.

And as he completed his circle, looking at the tree in the center of town, he realized there was nothing here that hadn't been effected by Gosalyn in some shape or form.

The fight within him immediately died.

The fire burning deep down, begging to be unleashed, was banked until there was only smoke and ash.

There was nothing left in its wake but the husk of what he had been.

Withered.

Dried out.

Empty.

This was worse.

This was _so much worse_ than when he had lost his mother.

Because now. Now, he was _nothing_.

Not even his rage could soothe him.

"The city is not half so bad as I imagined it to be."

Negaduck forgot to be startled at the voice. At the idea that he wasn't alone with his thoughts. That he had, probably, been followed.

"Then you didn't hear the right stories," Negaduck growled, his voice still, somehow, unchanged. Still graveled and deep. And here he thought that, too, would be broken.

He looked over to see Scrooge McDuck, who was standing nearby, a winter coat buttoned all the way up to the collar, his top hat in place, his glasses glinting in the Christmas lights, and hands resting atop his cane that was planted precisely between his feet.

"Well," said Scrooge, studying the city square around them, "Gosalyn did have a way of making things seem better than they perhaps were."

At the mention of her, Negaduck straightened, a sharp pain lancing through his gut. "Why are you here?" he snarled, his tone harsh.

"I was worried about you."

Negaduck blinked in surprise, the anger flitting away in the wake of the open honesty Scrooge was offering him. "Why?" There wasn't anger in his voice anymore, just incredulity.

Scrooge finally turned his gaze to Negaduck, the brilliant blue somewhat dulled."You were the only one who was alone. Drake has Launchpad. Max is with Goofy. The boys have Donald. But you. There's no one."

Shivering, and fully prepared to blame the winter weather for that, Negaduck scowled and wrapped his cape around himself. "Thanks for the reminder."

Scrooge tapped his cane on the street, his eyes moving back to the decorations. "I do know loss, and I know what it can do to you. Make you feel like you're life's not worth anything, that all the joy and pleasure in the world has a been locked away, just not an option for someone like you anymore.*

"I did not want you to have to process something like this on your own. And I know that Gosalyn would have wanted the same."

Negaduck swallowed. "So you're here because of her." It was stated so matter-of-factly. Like the answer to a riddle.

"No." Scrooge smiled slightly and shrugged. "I like you, laddie. Probably more than you realize. I was being honest when I said that I was worried."

Negaduck pulled his cape around himself all the tighter. He didn't know what to do with this blatant act of kindness. From Gosalyn, it was something he'd grown accustomed to. But from someone else. Someone Negaduck knew so little about, had only interacted with in the most cursory of ways. He didn't know how to categorize it.

"So," said Negaduck when the silence ate away at him too much and he couldn't take the stillness anymore, "what do we do now?"

"There's no rulebook when it comes to this type of thing," said Scrooge. "You'll just take whatever time you need to grieve. And if it's all right, I would like to stop by from time to time. Make sure you aren't up to anything too stupid."

"I _am_ an adult, you know."

"Not to me," said Scrooge with something like affection warming his tone. "Besides, losing someone we love makes fools of us all."

"Sounds like you've got some personal experience."

Damn.

That was.

That was mean.

Scrooge had only come with good intentions.

But Negaduck had never done well with good intentions.

Scrooge sighed. "Lad, I've lived through my fair share of history. That doesn't come without a price. I've seen people come and go, a good deal of them I cared about. This never gets easier. It doesn't stop hurting. But you realize that being with those who are left is the best way to move forward."

Not in a thousand years would Negaduck have guessed that Scrooge McDuck would have considered being with _him_ to figure out how to move forward. There were so many better candidates.

Speaking of.

"How's Darkwing?"

Scrooge hummed and returned his gaze to the city around them. "I couldn't say. Launchpad's with him, so he's not alone."

Negaduck didn't think Darkwing would _ever_ be alone.

Unless you counted those sad pathetic versions of him that had isolated themselves. Darkwarrior Duck. The silent arrow slinging one who called himself Quiverwing.

All the other Darkwing's he had met were obnoxiously horrendously surrounded by those who loved him. Sometimes worshipped him. Darkwing was enveloped by people who would be there no matter what. Who would support him.

So, _of course_ he wasn't alone—

Wait.

Hold on.

Darkwarrior and Quiverwing Duck. There was something there. In their isolation. Why had they become solitary?

Because they'd lost their Gosalyns.

A frigid realization shot through Negaduck like a bolt of electricity.

Oh.

Shit.

"We have to go back," he said, turning towards the Sugar and Spice Bakery and marching towards it.

Scrooge started following Negaduck, his cane _clack clack clacking_ away behind him. "What d'ya mean?"

"We have to go back to the Prime Universe," Negaduck said, quickening his pace as he turned down a corner and sped towards Everything Nice. "Darkwing is a ticking time bomb."

"Lad, I can't speak to how well he might be doing right now, but like I said, he's not alone—"

"He wasn't alone in those other universes, either. Not at first. There are other worlds where Gosalyn has died, has left, and Darkwing pushed everyone away and destroyed everything around him in the process."

Scrooge harrumphed as they reached their destination. "Who's speaking from personal experience now?"

Huh.

Interesting.

Scrooge could be mean, too.

"Oh, please," Negaduck scoffed, wrenching the door to the bakery open as he sent Scrooge a sneer. "I destroyed everything because there was nothing better to do. You can't push people away if no one's there in the first place."

With that, Negaduck strode back into the bakery, back into the storage room, back into the cake.

Gosalyn had only feared one iteration of her father: Darkwarrior Duck.

So, if Darkwing was about to go supernova, Negaduck was gonna make damn sure he would be there to do something about it.

After all, her last words to him had been, " _Please watch over Dad and Max._ "

So, of course, he would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Quote by Griffin McElroy from The Adventure Zone: Amnesty arc.*


	16. Silent Night

Usually, when he needed to think, or be by himself, the Tower was the best place to go. Perched on a ledge overlooking the city. Not many people knew to look for him there and it was too far up for any citizen to catch sight of him.

But it didn't offer much comfort tonight.

It had been out of habit more than anything that he'd crawled out of one of the large windows onto the overhang of Darkwing Tower. But one look at St. Canard sprawled beneath him, lights all the brighter with the addition of Christmas decorations, sent Darkwing into something of a panic.

Gosalyn had loved Christmas, more than anyone Darkwing had met.

Unable to breathe with the incessant cheer and good tidings that was beneath him, Darkwing walked to the opposite side of the Tower. Turned his back on St. Canard. And settled. Looking away from the city. Out over Audubon Bay Bridge, towards the dark rolling hills, giving him a reprieve from the decorations. From the time of year.

From the reminder that the holiday that had once brought so much happiness and warmth would now forever be stained with the memory of today.

His cape billowed out madly behind him as if trying to dislodge itself from his shoulders. His fedora, he was sure, would have been lost to the night if he hadn't left it inside. Handed it to Launchpad when he had asked, with big eyes that were red, if there was anything DW needed.

What Darkwing needed was impossible. He needed his little girl back.

But she was gone. So he would never need anything again.

Gosalyn had been his heart, his soul, his very life. And without her, there was simply nothing left.

Logically, on some level, he knew that wasn't true. That he had a lot in his life. His crimefighting. St. Canard, he supposed. S.H.U.S.H. probably. Launchpad definitely.

But he wasn't going to delude himself into thinking that Scrooge McDuck or the Goofs were in need of Darkwing Duck. Or Drake Mallard. They had been brought into his little social circle by Gosalyn, so without her, there was nothing to bond them together.

So many things in Drake's life were in place because of Gosalyn. Had been built around her. For her.

With her gone, did he need a house? A secret identity?

He'd unexpectedly been thrown back into those very dark days before she'd been in his life. When his existence was defined by how many criminals he locked up. When he was struggling day in and day out to survive because, until S.H.U.S.H. came along with an employment packet, Darkwing hadn't had reliable income. Or health insurance. Or a way to get food or visit a hospital without compromising his identity. As a young 20-something duck with so very much to prove and a tiresome amount of determination, he'd been able to struggle his way through.

But now, as a duck sailing straight into his golden years, Darkwing was exhausted by the mere thought of returning to his old life. When he slept the day away. Woke to the sunset and ventured out into the night. If he was lucky, he found a wayward cat burglar or a vandal. Mostly, he had been unlucky and his nightly escapades were fruitless. Then he would return to his Tower as the sun came up. His cold empty tower that had only held the barest necessities to exist. He hadn't _lived_ in his Tower; you couldn't call that living, what he had done. It had been survival. And barely that.

For almost fifteen years, no one had called him "Drake." Closer to twenty, if he was being honest. There had been no Drake Mallard. There had _only_ been Darkwing Duck.

Until a small red-headed girl had asked, "You mean, you don't take off your mask for _anyone_?"

_Then_ he remembered that there was someone underneath his heroic persona. Not someone worth knowing, though. Not then.

And not now, if Gosalyn wasn't here. She'd brought out the best in him. Gave him a purpose. Something to fight for. Someone to come home to.

No more.

Not ever again.

Darkwing went to inhale but found he couldn't. His suit was strangling him. This purple monstrosity that he had hidden behind for so long and would have to hide behind again.

Fingers scrambling, he reached up and unhooked his cape, releasing it to the harsh winter wind, the fabric sailing over the Bay, tumbling end over end, flashing purple and pink in a rapid kaleidoscope of chaos.

He didn't _want_ to be Darkwing Duck.

The jacket was the next thing to go. Buttons ripped off, small pings of the brass hitting the steel bridge as he tore off his coat and flung it as far as he could.

Darkwing Duck was too arrogant. Too selfish. Too crass. He worked alone. He pursued only the next headline. He didn't care about quality of life or saving people if it meant it would miss the news.

The turtleneck was harder to get his fingers underneath, the teal fabric seemed to have adhered to his feathers, choking him. But get his fingers under it he did, yanking it up and off before sending it careening down into the swirling darkness below.

Darkwing Duck could only be considered a hero in his own twisted mind.

Last to go was the mask. The very piece that he had refused to take off for almost two decades.

It came off easily and Drake shredded it to pieces, making sure there was no way it could ever hide who he was ever again.

Darkwing Duck was all that was left with Gosalyn gone.

But.

Drake Mallard _hated_ Darkwing Duck.

He wanted to be Drake.

Drake Mallard who was a father. Who had gone to PTA meetings (after figuring out what PTA stood for. And meant). Who went Christmas shopping for his kid even though he despised large crowds and found Christmas carols a little too jarring. Who had learned how to cook even though he hadn't ever had the patience for it. Who had cleaned even though the smell of bleach made him gag. Who had learned to live beside the worst neighbors in all of history because Gosalyn had needed a stable home and Honker made her smile.

Drake had only been focused on making Gosalyn happy. Drake had put his own needs aside for hers.

But there was no Drake Mallard without Gosalyn. There was only Darkwing Duck.

And he didn't want to be _Darkwing Duck_.

Curling up, knees to chest, Drake buried his face in his arms, desperate to keep Drake Mallard around for a little bit longer. To remember Gosalyn's face. And her smile. And her laugh. And how she would quirk up one eyebrow — her right one — just slightly when she disagreed with him. How she'd ask the questions that he didn't know the answer to instead of the easy ones he could brush away. How, when she would cross her arms over her chest, widen her stance, and look at him unflinchingly she wouldn't budge until he'd listened to her. How she was so easy to be around because she would let you come as you were but would help make you into who you wanted to be.

"Heya, DW," came a soft voice.

"Don't call me that," Drake said.

"Okay," soothed Launchpad.

He sounded close by. Drake looked up and saw his friend standing beside him, hair streaked with gray blowing in the chilled wind. The collar of his jacket and his pilot's cap were dusted with snow.

When had it started snowing?

Blinking through the tears — how long had he been crying? — Drake looked out over the darkness of the countryside before him. Sure enough, there a gentle swirl of snow cascading down. Which probably meant that it was cold. Experimentally moving his fingers and toes, Drake found that he couldn't feel them.

"D'ya wanna come inside?"

The Tower.

Darkwing Tower.

With all his equipment and his weapons and his suits and his library.

"I want to go home," said Drake. To his house in the heart of suburbia. Unassuming, quiet, nestled far away from the city.

"We can do that," said Launchpad, reaching out a hand.

His limbs stiff from sitting in one position for he knew not how long and from the bone-shattering cold, Drake took hold of Launchpad's hand, immediately struck by how warm his friend was.

What a sight he must be. Drake Mallard sitting atop a tower on Audubon Bay Bridge in nothing but his underclothes in the dead of winter.

He didn't really care.

Launchpad led him back inside, practically carrying him, and got them settled in the armchairs before activating the statue, sending them whirling through the underground tunnels of St. Canard. Straight into the living room of Avian Way.

Their Christmas tree stood proud in the corner. Garland wove around the family photos on the mantle. Three stockings hung down into the dormant fireplace. They'd only need two now.

Drake took a shuddering breath and pushed himself to standing. Which was a mistake because his feet still hadn't regained feeling. He collapsed, sprawling onto the ground.

But Launchpad was there to catch him, easily lugging him upright. Helping him up the stairs. Grabbing out a set of pajamas and tugging down the blankets of his bed.

"Y'need anything else, DW?" Launchpad asked, standing in the doorway, his fingers curled around the handle.

"It's Drake," he said wearily, pulling up the blankets so they draped over his shoulder, effectively cocooning him.

_He didn't want to be Darkwing Duck_.

Launchpad nodded. "I'll get some food together. Call if you need me."

With that, Launchpad closed the door, leaving Drake alone in his dark bedroom. He turned towards the window and watched the snow fall on the other side of the glass, the swirling flakes illuminated in the golden beam from the streetlight.

The feeling gradually returned to his limbs.

But inside.

He was nothing.


	17. Where Are You Christmas?

He had forgotten how different the world looked after you lost someone you loved.

Granted, it had been decades, and he had only been a child at the time. Negaduck only really remembered the physical pain that accompanied loss.

There was still that familiar ache, that overwhelming sense of destitution.

But now the world around him looked different. Everything was in extremes; either too much or too little. Sounds, smells, taste, touch, light. It was either overwhelming or too meager.

And it was compounded by the time of year.

Christmas had always walked the line of campy capitalism and genuine camaraderie. It had taken a long time, but Negaduck had started to veer towards the warmth and reciprocity the season brought instead of the cold cynicism.

Looking down on St. Canard, though. He could only see it as disingenuous. All the decorations and the familiar phrases splattered across the cityscape to get people to buy more useless crap. It was all a ruse. A clever venture drummed up by some long-dead tycoon who had seen a good business opportunity.

Christmas was empty hope and shattered comfort.

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, Negaduck immediately felt guilty. Gosalyn would hate that he was thinking this way. Would sigh heavily at his pessimism. Sure, she would concede that companies used the winter season to get people to buy more product, and that there was an element of forced cheer and yes, people were better behaved for these first 25 days in December when they should behave the same for all 365 days of the year.

But Christmas brought people together. It was the time when families and friends would reunite. When people were more excited about giving gifts instead of just getting them.

It was clear as day, this vision of Gosalyn reprimanding him for being so misanthropic.

It still didn't dull the sharp pain of loss that Negaduck was gonna have to adjust to again.

"This may sound daft," said Scrooge, walking up to stand at Negaduck's side, "but the city seems different without her here."

Negaduck didn't say anything as he spun away from the big windows that lined Darkwing Tower, his cape whirling out behind him.

"I assume Darkwing will be at home since he's not here," Scrooge said, his cane clicking on the floor as he followed.

"If he isn't there, we have much bigger problems to worry about." Negaduck gave a cursory glance up to the second level, half wondering if Darkwing could be up there. His bed was on the second floor; he could be asleep.

Negaduck blinked and came to a halt, Scrooge bumping into him.

Someone was looking back at them.

Not Darkwing, though.

Goofy.

Standing on the second level of the Tower and peering down.

Goofy waved, a little less enthusiastically than normal, and loped his way over to the spiral staircase. He climbed down with surprising grace, his eyes tracing up to the second level as he walked over to join them.

"Maxie's finally asleep," Goofy said, looking down at Negaduck. It was wrong to see such a forlorn expression on the big idiot's face.

"Darkwing up there?" Negaduck asked.

Goofy shook his head. "Launchpad took him home. Had to coax him in off the edge of the tower first."

Negaduck was already running out of time.

"D'ya happen to know how to fly that thing?" Scrooge asked, his cane coming up in Negaduck's periphery as he pointed at something.

He was indicating the Thunderquack. Negaduck sent Scrooge a confused look and the older duck shrugged. "Seems the fastest way to get to the house. I know you lads are fond of your motorcycles, but I can't imagine any of them would outstrip a plane for speed."

"I will call your plane," Negaduck said, pointing to the armchairs on the other side of the Tower, "and raise you a secret passageway straight to his house."

Scrooge's eyes sparked with interest. "I must say, you lads do think of everything for this hero lifestyle."

"No, no, not me. Darkwing."

Scrooge just snorted as they made their way over to the chairs.

On their way, they were intercepted by their Posiverse counterparts who had been up in the kitchen area. They descended now and made their way over to the group.

Posiduck was wringing his hands, eyes not quite able to meet Negaduck's.

"I'm so sorry," Stellar said, sorrow etched into the harsh lines of his face. He stretched out his arms and stepped foward.

Negaduck flinched.

Scrambled backwards, his arms coming up to cover his head.

He bumped into something solid behind him, whatever it was wrapping around his shoulders to hold him up.

He heard the harsh tone of Scrooge, the (what sounded like sincere) apologies from Stellar. His heart was racing, his breathing shallow, but he forced himself to take long deep breaths.

This wasn't _his_ father. It was another version. From everything Negaduck had seen, this Stellar meant no harm. Wasn't even abusive. Negaduck wasn't in any danger.

As more rational thoughts took over the panicked survival instinct, Negaduck lowered his arms and surveyed the scene before him. Scrooge standing between Stellar and Negaduck, cane pointed up menacingly at Stellar's beak. Stellar looking absolutely devastated and backing up slowly, hands held up in surrender. Posiduck looking between Stellar and Negaduck with realization lighting his features.

Negaduck glanced backwards and Goofy was standing there, a strong grip on Negaduck's shoulders while he studied Stellar curiously.

Seeing Negaduck calming down, Stellar locked eyes with him and said, "I'm sorry. I didn't—"

"Whatever," Negaduck said, shrugging out of Goofy's grip and stalking over to the armchairs. He'd been humiliated enough to last a lifetime.

"Do you need help?" Posiduck asked.

"Not from you," Negaduck snarled, settling into a chair as Scrooge sat in the one beside him. "And he's in charge while we're gone." Negaduck pointed at Goofy before hitting the statue to activate the chairs.

They spun, sending he and Scrooge out of the Tower and into the tunnels, straight for Avian Way. The identical armchairs on the other end spun around, depositing them safely in the living room.

It was fully decorated for Christmas. In a more traditional, Christmas card type of way than Negaduck's. The small colored lights in the tree and along the mantle were all the brighter against the inky night pressing in at the windows.

No sooner had Negaduck and Scrooge rose from the chairs than a hulking shadow lumbered into the room. The outline was familiar, though, and Negaduck didn't reach for a weapon to defend himself.

"Heya, Mr. McD," said Launchpad, his tone flat and lifeless. "Negaduck, you okay?"

"No," he said. He didn't think he'd ever be _okay_ again. But he could succumb to the gaping hole that was tearing him asunder from the inside out once he was alone.

After he confirmed that Gosalyn's father, the one person she cared about more than anyone else, wasn't a threat to himself or society.

"Where's Darkwing?" he demanded.

"Upstairs." Launchpad sounded dejected, his eyes skimming up towards the ceiling, as if he could somehow reach out to Darkwing with the force of his gaze. "He's… he's…."

"Yeah, none of us are doing great here," snapped Negaduck, marching over towards the staircase and vaulting up to the second level.

He had half a mind to just burst into Darkwing's bedroom, kicking open the door and demanding he get up from whatever stupor he'd sunk into, but something stayed his hand — or, in this case, his foot — and he managed a quick _tap-tap-tap_ on the door as forewarning before he shoved it open.

The room was bathed in darkness, a beam of light streaming in through a gap between the curtains. Negaduck suspected they were black out curtains with how effectively they kept the light out. They made sense given Darkwing's nocturnal schedule. Negaduck had always just suffered through sunrises like a man, but if Darkwing needed full darkness to get a good night's rest, well.

Darkwing didn't stir at the sudden light spilling in from the hallway, nor at the shadow of his arch-iest of arch nemeses cast across the room. He didn't complain. Didn't make any noise of recognition at all. Shit, that lump on the bed might not even be _breathing_. (Which really wasn't fair if Darkwing got to follow Gosalyn into that good night and left Negaduck to deal with the burden of living all on his own.

Some people had _no_ manners.)

"Darkwing," Negaduck growled, walking into the room properly and keeping his eyes trained on the lump under the blankets.

"Don't call me that," croaked a voice somewhere near the pillows.

At least he wasn't dead.

Not physically, anyway. Negaduck could imagine that internally, there probably wasn't much of Darkwing left. He was confident in his assumption because there wasn't much of Negaduck left, either. So much of himself, of his self-worth and his identity, had been tied into Gosalyn and it was only now, in the wake of her absence, that he realized just how much.

"Listen," said Negaduck, peeking out between the curtains at the falling snow, "I don't need you to get up and at 'em or anything. Just give me some sort of sign that you aren't going nuclear."

Darkwing said nothing. Didn't even move. Just blinked slowly, his eyes trained on the swirling snow outside.

Negaduck walked closer to the bed and waved his hand in front of Darkwing's face."Hello?"

Darkwing didn't react.

This.

Didn't bode well.

As Negaduck tried to think of his next plan of action, a small plane-like gadget soared into the room. It was shaped like the Thunderquack, but a miniaturized version. Which Negaduck recognized immediately.

A Flashquack.

Darkwing had gifted him a Flashquack last Christmas as a means to communicate. If Negaduck ever decided to reach out.

This Flashquack soared around the room and came to a stop in front of Darkwing. After hovering beside him for a few moments without any recognition from Darkwing at all, it turned and flew over to Negaduck. He stared at it as the little cockpit sprung open, a small scroll sitting inside.

Negaduck glanced back at the unmoving pile of blankets.

Then to the Flashquack.

It hovered before him, bobbing slightly to stay airborne, but otherwise it was stationary in the air.

Sighing, Negaduck reached out and plucked the paper from the device, which beeped at him softly before its cockpit shut and it flew out of the room.

Swearing under his breath, Negaduck unrolled the paper and read the printed message.

_Darkwarrior, Christine, and Ana broke out of their cells. There's another wave of robots marching towards St. Canard from a portal in a currently unknown location. Keep the robots from taking over St. Canard and take the prisoners back into custody. We will work on finding and destroying the portal._

_-J. Gander Hooter_

_Director of S.H.U.S.H._

Negaduck crumpled the paper into a ball and threw it as far as he could across the room.

Damn Ana and Darkwarrior. Damn them straight to Hell.

The fight wasn't over.

As if they hadn't taken _everything_ from Negaduck already, they were coming in for round two.

Talk about hitting someone while they were down.

"Let's go," Negaduck snarled, stalking over to the bed and tugging off the blankets.

Darkwing didn't move, still curled up in the fetal position, his eyes trained on the window. Hell, he looked awful. The shadowy circles under his eyes were dark enough to look like bruises, and the lines around his beak were etching into permanence with his frown very firmly in place. Without that annoying determination perking up his features, he looked downright haggard.

"There's gonna be another robot attack," Negaduck said, releasing his hold on the blankets, which fell in a heap at the foot of the bed. "They're coming through some portal. Time to hero up."

Darkwing sighed. Long and heavy. "Darkwing Duck doesn't exist anymore," he said softly.

"That's dramatic," Negaduck said around a sigh of his own. "J. Gander requested help himself. Can't say 'no' to your boss."

Darkwing continued to lie unmoving. An emotionless blob on a mattress.

Balling his hands into fists, Negaduck stomped up to the side of the bed and placed his hands on the side, leaning forward and causing the bed to dip towards him. He stared Darkwing right in the face. "Ana and Darkwarrior escaped. You really gonna let those murderers run rampant through your city?"

Darkwing still didn't move. Still kept staring past Negaduck, despite the fact that he was directly in his line of vision.

Then.

He shifted his gaze upward.

Caught Negaduck's eye.

Blinked.

And looked back towards the window.

Bastard.

Taking a breath, Negaduck focused on the task at hand rather than on his swirling emotions.

The city was under attack. Which wouldn't be such a big deal if it wasn't _Gosalyn's_ city. Was still Darkwing's and Launchpad's and Max's city. All of whom Gosalyn had loved so fiercely.

And, yeah, okay, Negaduck _liked_ them.

Launchpad with his easy smiles and constant invitations to eat.

Max with his relentless determination and casual jokes.

Darkwing. Gosalyn's father. Who was so like Negaduck and yet so different. Who had gone out of his way to invite Negaduck into his home, into his life, because it's what Gosalyn had wanted.

Negaduck was in awe of how easily Darkwing gave up everything he fundamentally believed in for that girl. Negaduck was still hesitant, even after all they'd been through, but Darkwing. He altered everything around him, including himself, so that she would be happy.

That unwavering devotion was something Negaduck was jealous of.

He sucked in a breath to stay the sorrow that gripped him in a vice.

After all this was over, he would go back to the Negaverse, could loose all the darkness swirling within and allow it do to what it did best.

Destroy.

He would likely be the target of this dark energy since the city held so much of Gosalyn now, but right now.

He needed to focus.

There was something he was missing here. Something that would get through to this dunce...

" _Don't call me that."_

" _Darkwing Duck doesn't exist anymore."_

Wondering if this was the final piece slotted into the puzzle, Negaduck glared at Darkwing. "What the hell do I call you if you're not Darkwing?"

Darkwing blinked. Glanced at Negaduck, something like surprise lighting those blue eyes. "Drake."

Wow.

He hated this.

"Fine. Drake." Negaduck kept his tone the same. Maintained eye contact. Some part of it was working because Drake was still focusing on him.

"What is the antidote to despair? Well, my friend, it is action.* You don't have to fight, but I'm sure as hell going into the fray. And... it would be... nice. If you were there, too. For Gosalyn."

Drake studied him, the wheels clearly turning in his head, but he remained silent.

"Waddya say?" Negaduck said.

A few more minutes of silence passed between them. A thousand different insults and rebukes and cajoles hung in the still space, Negaduck refusing to pluck any of them down. He was playing in the big leagues, here. He needed to not give into that old schoolyard taunting.

Drake didn't say anything one way or another. He just sat up.

"I'll be downstairs," Negaduck said before turning on his heel and marching out of the room. He kept the doorway open, not eager to throw Drake back into that all consuming darkness again if he could help it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Quote by Justin McElroy from “The Adventure Zone: Dust” arc.*


	18. Oh Come, Oh Come, Emmanuel

After crashing his way back down the stairs, Negaduck instructed Launchpad to meet up in Darkwing Tower within the next fifteen minutes and left for the headquarters with Mr. McD alongside him. Launchpad stayed behind to wait for DW.

He didn't know what Negaduck had said to get DW out of his room, but come downstairs he eventually did, looking just as dejected as earlier, only now moving around with some modicum of motivation.

Even if the stiffness in DW's posture and the hollow look in his eyes put Launchpad on edge.

"You ready?" Launchpad asked.

DW shrugged and situated himself in the armchair, Launchpad settling beside him, and sent them spinning towards the Tower.

It still seemed like a bad dream which Launchpad would wake up from at any moment. He'd turn the corner and there she would be. Gosalyn. She'd listen to Launchpad's dream — nightmare really — and shrug, telling him that dreams were weird and it didn't mean anything. She was fine.

But she wasn't fine.

And she wasn't in the house.

Launchpad had gone from the kitchen to the living room to her bedroom a couple dozen times, one big oblong loop, just to keep reminding himself that she wasn't there. And each time he realized the truth it was just as agonizing and grievous as when he had gotten the call from J. Gander.

The director's usually controlled voice had cracked and sounded tinny over the phone. " _We found our first victim of this attack. It's…. Launchpad, it's Gosalyn."_

" _What happened? Is she okay?"_ he'd practically yelled. Mr. McD's eyebrows had skyrocketed upwards as he'd surveyed Launchpad's blind panic.

" _We are still piecing together precisely what happened, but she's…. She didn't make it. I'm so very sorry."_

Launchpad had collapsed in Darkwing Tower, Mr. McD rushing over and frantically asking what had happened. But there hadn't been words. Nothing to describe the desolation that had swept through him.

And his agony had only gotten worse when DW had called him, still blissfully unaware. Still living under the impression that Gosalyn was alive and well.

It had been Launchpad who had broken the news to him. Sort of. By asking if she was truly gone. DW's voice reached higher octaves and grew more desperate as he'd begun to piece together what had happened. What dark future now spanned before them.

It was unnatural, to think of the world without Gosalyn in it. She had been such an instrumental part of DW's life. Of bringing DW and Launchpad together. Of keeping the family intact over the years and expanding it to include new members.

Members who all stood around him in Darkwing Tower now.

Negaduck, DW, Mr. McD and Launchpad stood in a circle. Stellar and Posiduck each sat nearby on some unopened boxes and crates with the S.H.U.S.H. logo spray painted on the sides. Stellar looked remorseful, his gray eyes flicking back and forth between Negaduck and DW, his hands wringing one another in his lap. Almost like he was holding himself back. Posiduck kept his eyes down, his shoulders slumped, his fingers tracing over the embroidery on the giant sleeves of his blue coat.

Max showed up last despite the fact that he had the least amount of distance to travel. He looked much the worse for wear, his eyes bloodshot and his gait slow. Goofy was right behind him, keeping a watchful eye on his son.

Looking at Launchpad, whom he came to stand next to, Goofy asked solemnly, "How you holdin' up?"

"Not great," Launchpad said.

Goofy nodded and patted Launchpad on the shoulder before turning his attention to Negaduck, who was standing in the center of the circle of gathered participants.

DW stood across from Launchpad, his eyes on the floor.

Sighing and looking supremely irritated, Negaduck glanced around at them all. "The prisoners escaped. And there's another fresh army of robots headed our way. I wouldn't ask any of you to be here unless I had to. And once this is over, we can all go our separate ways and never come to St. Canard's defense again. But we answered this call earlier today, and we should finish the job."

"Listen," said Max, his voice scratchy, "I'm all for finishing something we started, but will we actually win? We're… we're already down one. Our odds are worse."

"When have bad odds ever stopped a rag tag team of heroes from fighting the good fight?" Negaduck demanded.

"They never do," Posiduck piped up. "It's hideously annoying."

Negaduck sharp gaze snapped to him.

Posiduck straightened. "Or, it was. When I was going up against the... what did you call them? Rag tag heroes? But I am one now, I suppose. Still, the determination and relentlessness is exhausting."

Stellar smiled, clapping Posiduck on his shoulder. "It's when the odds are stacked against you that you know what you're doing is right. And that you should keep going."

Mr. McD gave an approving nod.

Negaduck looked around the circle again. "So, you all with me?"

"I'm with ya, lad," said Mr. McD with a single dip of his head.

"I'm with you," said Stellar, standing.

Posiduck nodded, standing as well.

"I'm with ya," said Launchpad.

"Sure. I'm in," said Max.

"I'll help any way I can," Goofy said.

The room fell silent as one by one everyone turned to look at DW.

Who shrugged.

Launchpad and Goofy exchanged glances as Stellar sighed and Mr. McD tapped his cane a few times in the lengthening silence. Max toed something on the ground, his arms crossed over his chest.

Negaduck stared at DW for a few moments before glancing around at the group. "The robots are gathering in the same area as before. You have five minutes to get whatever supplies you need then we're leaving."

Mr. McD pulled Negaduck aside, the two whispering furiously to one another as everyone else dispersed.

All except DW, who walked over to the Ratcatcher and climbed into the sidecar. Without any weapons. Without his cape. Without his mask. He was wearing his green argyle sweater vest and pink collared shirt underneath. Launchpad hadn't thought much of it when they'd left the house (DW had been at _home_ , after all, so it made sense for him to be in his civvies), but it was jarring now to see DW sit in one of his combat vehicles as Drake Mallard.

Wary of approaching his longtime friend who wasn't acting anything like the DW that Launchpad knew, Launchpad busied himself with getting Max ready for the fight instead. Goofy elected to stay in Darkwing Tower with Scrooge this time, interfacing with S.H.U.S.H.. Goofy had gone up to the second floor to get Max's weapons as Launchpad took Max over to the armory to get him properly suited up for the battle at hand.

Launchpad pocketed a few smoke and gas canisters himself since it didn't look like DW was gathering anything and Launchpad didn't want to go into this fight empty handed. Stellar and Posiduck joined them, gathering additional ammunition from the weapons wall.

No one touched the arrows.

With the five minutes up, the group gathered back together. Negaduck was strapping something on underneath his cape that Launchpad couldn't quite make out but was confident was a weapon of mass destruction.

"Does everyone have a phone?" Everyone nodded. "We get in there, kick some robot ass, and get out. Leave Ana and Darkwarrior to S.H.U.S.H.." With that, Negaduck turned to glare at DW. "You gonna tell me why you're heading into a war zone unarmed?"

DW shrugged again. "I'm not Darkwing Duck anymore. And Drake Mallard doesn't know the first thing about combat."

"Listen, lad—"

"Gee, DW—"

"Don't call me that!" DW snapped, glaring at Launchpad. "It's Drake!"

Max leaned over, bumping his shoulder against Launchpad's reassuringly.

"I don't have fucking _time_ for this," Negaduck muttered, marching over to the Ratcatcher and jumping into the driver's seat. "Everyone get in a vehicle." He turned the bike on and peeled out of the Tower, both mallards disappearing down the cabling.

Launchpad looked over to Mr. McD, feeling as though he had been flayed. "I don't know how to help DW."

Mr. McD sighed and walked over to him. He looked weary as he patted his arm. "There's not much that can be helped, lad. All we can do is keep an eye on him for now."

"What if he doesn't get better?" Launchpad asked, his eyes straying to the window through which Negaduck and DW had disappeared. "What if this is… who he is now?"

"It's only been a few hours," Mr. McD soothed.

Launchpad nodded, still feeling uneasy. His life was turning to sand in his grasp, quickly changing shape as some of it shifted away. And it seemed the more he tried to grip onto it and gather the pieces back up, more of it shifted away, the pieces nowhere to be seen. DW and Gosalyn had been his bedrocks these past few decades, giving him stability. But one was gone and the other unmoored and he felt directionless.

For now, though, St. Canard was under attack and Launchpad would answer the call.

He clambered up into the Thunderquack with Max, Stellar, and Posiduck behind him. Once everyone was situated, he took off into the sky.

Launchpad had seen the first wave of robots and tanks descending on St. Canard from the Tower a few hours ago. It had been a harrowing sight, that mass swarming over the bridge and towards the city.

This new wave of black and chrome machinery was decidedly larger than the first one, the silver glinting in the Christmas lights while the black seemed to just swallow the light whole.

Launchpad kept an eye on the Ratcatcher, following its trajectory. Once he saw that Negaduck was taking position between the city and the army, he steered the Thunderquack in the same direction, coming to land beside the Ratcatcher.

Negaduck was standing in front of the motorcycle, black cape flapping in the wind as he stared down the leaders, Ana, Darkwarrior, and Christine who were flanked by their robot army.

Everyone piled out of the Thunderquack, forming a line in front of the robots.

DW stayed slumped in the sidecar of the Ratcatcher, watching and unmoving.

"We kicked your asses last time," Negaduck said, his voice deep and graveled. "We'll do it again."

"I have no doubt that you will try," said Ana, a smirk on her beak. "But as I myself am on the battlefield now, I am confident that things will go a little differently."

Max gripped his spear. Stellar drew his pistols. Posiduck unsheathed his sword.

Negaduck only balled his hands into fists, but didn't make a move for a weapon.

"How can you be so confident when you'll be convicted for murder?" came a ragged voice.

Launchpad looked over and DW was climbing out of the sidecar, stumbling over to stand beside Negaduck. His expression was positively thunderous, his hands shaking at his sides. Launchpad had never seen him so unraveled. It sent a chill ricochetting down his spine.

Ana cocked her head to one side. "Pawns need to be sacrificed for the queen to take the game."

Launchpad felt the disgust and anger from those around him, but he forgot to be upset himself.

Because he was still watching DW.

Who reached into Negaduck's cape.

Pulled out a gun.

And aimed it at Ana's head.

Launchpad's mouth ran dry as DW's finger squeezed the trigger.

"No!" Negaduck cried, shoving DW's arm up so the gun was aimed at the sky.

The tell tale crack of gunfire cut through the silent night, catching everyone's attention.

Negaduck wrestled DW to the ground, yanking the gun out of his grip.

Or he tried to.

DW fought back, swinging his free arm down and punching Negaduck square in the jaw. Negaduck grunted but still tugged the gun free when DW reached into Negaduck's cape again, this time pulling out a knife.

Launchpad ran over, but Negaduck managed to grab DW's other arm as he threw the knife. The weapon didn't get any farther than a few feet, landing harmlessly in the dirt.

One of the mallards growled; Launchpad couldn't tell which.

"Drake!" Launchpad cried as he skidded to his knees, taking hold of DW's wrists and pinning them to the ground. "You gotta calm down!"

"Fuck you!" DW spat as Negaduck tried to get a grip on his wildly kicking feet. "She killed my daughter!"

Another growl was loosed, and Launchpad was 80% sure that one came from Negaduck, but it was getting harder to tell the difference between them.

They both wore similar scowls reflecting the same boundless anger. Oh, sure, they were dressed very differently, but at this moment, Launchpad could have sworn there was a mirror on the field, reflecting Negaduck back to himself.

And that absolutely terrified Launchpad.

Because DW wasn't supposed to have this hatred and deep seated fury. The untamed wrath was reserved specifically for Negaduck.

But it seemed that since DW was borrowing Negaduck's ire, the villain was borrowing some of DW's heroism. Because he swallowed his anger and managed to maneuver himself so he was sitting on DW's knees.

"Rage all you want," Negaduck panted, "but I'm telling you, it doesn't solve anything."

"This might be the easiest invasion I've ever led," Ana said, her tone light and unconcerned.

"You still gotta go through us," Max said.

"With pleasure," Ana said.

Launchpad and Negaduck locked gazes before looking over to the enemy.

A wave of robots shot forward. Right towards them.

Max intercepted all of them, a well-aimed throw causing his spear to pierce through three at once. The remaining two he knocked out of the sky with his shield. Max stepped forward, yanking his spear free, and braced himself for further attacks, Stellar and Posiduck flanking him.

Looking back at Launchpad, Negaduck said, "I gotta get in there." He nodded at DW. "Get him back to Darkwing Tower before he does something he'll regret." He grabbed out rope from his cape and started binding DW's legs together as DW roared in frustration.

"No problemo." Launchpad caught the extra rope Negaduck tossed at him and secured DW's wrists. "Sorry, Drake," he mumbled as he tied the knot. "But ya might hurt yourself."

"I don't care," DW said, the fight leaving him suddenly as he looked up at Launchpad, his eyes filled with a burning anger and a deep despair all at once. "The city is under attack, this universe is doomed, and I just _don't care_."

Launchpad had anticipated that the loss of Gosalyn would be decimating for his friend, but to see this darker side of DW. This almost feral version who was lashing out at others. Trying to commit _murder_. Launchpad tried to shake off the terror that had seeped into his bones as he stood and hauled DW over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

He hated to leave the fight when it was just getting started. But with DW's safety at risk, he would do it without any hesitation.

Sprinting back towards the Thunderquack, Launchpad managed to dodge out of the way of flying robots and wove through the rolling chrome bots.

He reached the plane in record time, his fingers inches from the hull, when a nearby explosion sent him reeling. He was sent flying backwards, DW dropping from his grip. He landed hard, sure a bruise would soon form on his side as he made contact with the ground. His ears were ringing, a high whine drowning out the battle raging around him.

He shook his head as he gingerly sat up, but to no avail.

He couldn't hear anything.

Glancing around, he saw the Thunderquack half blown away, the bill smoldering from the blast.

And DW was nowhere to be seen.

A black robot soared down towards Launchpad, the laser gun on its shoulder aiming at him. He felt around for some sort of weapon, fingers closing over one of the gas canisters he'd stuffed into his pockets.

Gripping it, he pulled out the pin and launched the canister at robot, hoping it was a type of putty that would slow the thing down.

But the tear gas that billowed out only made Launchpad's eyes water.

Blinking furiously through the constant tears, Launchpad tried to keep track of the robot, tucking his head under his arms and bracing for an impact.

Which never came.

The robot was hit by a projectile, causing it to spiral away and crash into the ground.

As the smoke cleared around the downed robot, Launchpad blinked furiously, wondering if he was imagining the wooden arrow sticking out of the robot's sparking eye socket.


	19. Hark! The Herald Angels Sing

Negaduck knew he would regret not taking out the tanks first. But with Drake down for the count, and Launchpad out of the battle for the — what?, like, half hour to get Drake to the Tower, settled, and back here? — he had no choice but to stand his ground and fight off the bots.

This wave seemed bent on targeting the opposition instead of mindless takeover. Which _sucked_ because a takeover he could deal with; they just marched towards one main point and all he had to do was mow them down. Fighting bots who were hostile, who flew directly at him shooting their lasers, was so much more exhausting. And it was _frustrating_ , taking down bot after bot after bot and never moving from his little patch of battleground. It all felt useless.

Negaduck felled another bot with his chainsaw and was spinning around to look for more threats when something sped past his head, missing him by mere inches. His eyes followed the trajectory of whatever it was, and he recognized it as Max's spear a split second before it collided with not one bot, but two, both of them falling to the ground with the spear poking through like shish kabob. Negaduck shuffled over and yanked the spear free. When he turned to search for Max, the kid was right behind him, hair standing on end with heavy bags under his eyes, but determination steeling his gaze.

He handed the spear back. "Nice throw."

Max took the weapon with a smile. "I had a good teacher."

Negaduck was about to respond when the ground shook beneath them, a plume of smoke erupting nearby. Max grabbed him and pulled him to the ground, holding his shield up over their heads. Which turned out to be a good move; embers and pieces of machinery rained down from the sky.

Damn it all to hell.

Negaduck should have gone with his instinct and attacked the tanks first.

From his position under Max's shield, Negaduck searched through the throngs of bots and saw the remains of the Thunderquack smoking, half of it blown to kingdom come.

Launchpad was lying in a heap on the ground. Drake was nowhere to be seen.

Damn it.

_Damn it_.

_DAMN IT_.

Negaduck growled, grabbed out his pistol, and shot a few Darkwarrior bots that were flying towards him and Max.

"I can clear a path for you," Max offered, eyes darting between the Thunderquack and Negaduck.

He was ready to deny the help, to say he would handle this and to have Max focus on not dying.

But….

Something held his tongue, stayed his fear of depending on someone else, and he reloaded his pistol before gripping his chainsaw in his non-dominant hand.

"I got your six," Negaduck said.

"We sound so badass," Max said before jumping up and hitting a bot out of the sky with his shield before he charged toward the Thunderquack, his spear a blur as he moved through the battle.

Okay, yeah, Negaduck had been apprehensive in training Max for combat. He hadn't been sure how much the kid was interested in fulfilling a fighter role to show off, and how much he genuinely wanted to learn the art of hand to hand combat so as to better himself and protect others.

But Max had impressed the hell out of Negaduck from the start.

And seeing him in action, full battle mode outside of training. Negaduck had to admit: the kid was very impressive.

Negaduck barreled after Max, shooting bots down from the sky and slicing through those that swarmed from behind.

The field was so chaotic that he almost missed it.

The take down of a bot.

Via arrow.

His breath caught in his throat as his eyes snapped to the felled robot. Sure enough, a wooden arrow was poking out of its smoking eye socket.

He was seeing things.

He had to be.

Wishing it so hard that his brain was hallucinating again.

But Max stood frozen before him, spear stuck in a nearby Posiverse chrome bot.

Which meant it _probably_ wasn't an illusion.

"Um…." Max stepped back towards Negaduck, asking for confirmation without taking his eyes off the thing.

"I see it," Negaduck said, glancing around the battlefield. Looking for the familiar shock of red hair. Or the sleek green suit. Or the substantial quiver and slender bow.

He found all of those things.

And, simultaneously, none of them.

A circular rift in space-time was floating nearby in mid-air and glowing with the familiar rainbow of multiverse travel.

Which had not been there mere moments ago.

Quiverwing Duck leapt through, quick to draw more arrows and firing them into the closest approaching bots. Standing straight, he turned to Negaduck with a grin. "Sorry we're late."

"Coordinates were off by _one_ number," Lyn huffed, striding through the portal just before it closed. Her katanas cut through a few bots like butter on a summer day. "But we figured it out."

Seeing her was like a kick in the head. Like his insides were getting ripped out through his toes. Like all the breath had been sucked right out of him.

Because, technically, there she was.

Gosalyn.

The same height, the same hair, the same eyes.

But, also, not Gosalyn.

She carried herself differently. Her hair had been shaved off the sides of her head. Her eyes didn't hold the same spark of mischief.

Not Gosalyn at all.

Almost as if the universe was taunting him. Had read his desperation for Gosalyn and had given her back, but not any version he could ever hope to have.

Max spun around to look at Negaduck, his expression stricken.

Negaduck opened his beak, wondering what sort of explanation he could possibly give that would make this okay, when a cry of, "Lyn!" rang out over the chaos of the battlefield.

She straightened, looking around, then sighed. Sheathing her katanas as Quiverwing took out robot after robot with his arrows, Lyn fiddled with a device wrapped around her wrist.

Another explosion rocked the ground beneath their feet, Negaduck grabbing the sleeve of Max's jacket to keep him from falling. As the tremors stopped, he spun around in a circle, cutting through incoming bots with his chainsaw as he pointed his pistol skyward and took out the Darkwarrior robots flying towards them.

Then.

Suddenly.

All of the chrome Posiverse bots collapsed, each and every one disabled. Nothing more than crumpled heaps of metal on the ground, eyes no longer glowing.

Negaduck glanced back towards Lyn who finished typing something on her watch then looked around the battlefield with a pleased expression on her face.

Why had she not gotten here sooner? That would have been immensely helpful several _hours_ ago.

With half the battlefield now eradicated, it was easier to see their party, despite how widespread it was.

Quiverwing Duck had run over to help Launchpad to his feet.

Posiduck was sprinting over towards Lyn, a look of relief on his face, and Stellar wasn't far behind, shoving his guns into their holsters.

God, that was the worst part of it all.

_They_ got a reunion.

_They_ were all safe and could recoup after this fight was over.

How come _them_ and not _him_?

Breathing into his constricted lungs, Negaduck glanced around, looking for their missing piece.

But Drake was nowhere to be seen.

He had to do _everything_ around here, didn't he?

Killing the motor on his chainsaw, Negaduck stashed it away and motioned for Max to follow, saying, "Stay close."

Max swallowed as he watched Posiduck yank Lyn into a bear hug, her expression one of surprise before she hesitantly returned the embrace. Sucking in a breath, Max followed Negaduck, spear and shield held at the ready.

Negaduck climbed over felled chrome Posiverse bots, shoved broken ones aside, and shot down the Darkwarrior robots that flew towards him as he searched for Drake. Max traipsed behind, using his shield as cover from the falling robots and his spear to knock more down from the sky.

At one point, Max grabbed Negaduck and ducked down behind a pile of Posiverse bots as another explosion detonated. Once the ground stopped shaking, Negaduck pressed on, his eyes still peeled for Drake.

And he found him.

Sprawled on his back near the smoking Thunderquack, eyes trained up towards the sky. The rope was still secured around his ankles and wrists, but he didn't seem to be putting up any fight against them. He just stared upwards, blinking slowly, his face impassive.

"Idiot," Negaduck growled, pocketing his pistol and sliding down to Drake's side as Max took up a defensive position nearby. "Buzzsaw cufflinks would come in handy now, wouldn't they?"

Drake didn't respond. Didn't even flinch when a Darkwarrior bot sailed right towards him. Negaduck hurriedly grabbed out his bazooka and blasted the damn thing out of the sky.

"Come on, loser," Negaduck said, hauling Drake up. He gave no resistance, but also didn't help in any way, nothing but dead weight. Negaduck was forced to put is bazooka down so he could use both hands to hoist Drake up to sitting. "We gotta get you to safety."

"It doesn't matter," Drake mumbled. "Nothing matters anymore."

"Look," said Negaduck, holding Drake upright before glancing around, wondering where he was supposed to go now, "I'm more than happy to leave you to your wallowing, but can it wait until this damn fight is over?"

Drake didn't respond and Negaduck sighed heavily.

In another moment, Launchpad was on Drake's other side and he was scooping him up, eyes fixed on the hero's face.

Quiverwing Duck stood nearby, bow in one hand, his head cocked to the side as he surveyed them. Something about the scene must have clicked together in his beady little brain, because he asked, "Where's Gosalyn?"

"She's dead," Drake said despondently.

" _What_?" Quiverwing Duck said, eyes widening and looking at Drake with a pained understanding.

"Ana murdered her," Drake said, looking out over the battlefield where the stain of her black military uniform stood out easily amongst the bright Christmas lights.

Quiverwing opened his beak, but quickly shut it again, instead assisting Launchpad by carving a path for them as they left the battlefield.

Negaduck sat back on his haunches, a bone-deep exhaustion settling in. He wasn't sure how much longer he could go on. His muscles felt loose and watery, his emotions raw, and all he really wanted to do was crawl into a corner and collapse.

Sighing, he glanced over his shoulder and felt a spike of panic when he didn't see Max.

Cursing under his breath, he sprang to his feet and reached for the first weapon he could get his feathered fingers on as he spun around, looking for the kid.

Had Negaduck not been clear when he'd said "stay close"? What the fu—

Relief crashed through him as he caught sight of Max nearby, standing in front of a blue police call box.

That _definitely_ hadn't been there before.

What was it with random shit popping into existence during this fight?

Pulling out his pistol, Negaduck made his way to Max's side, eyes on the door in one side of the box.

"More reinforcements, d'ya think?" Max asked as Negaduck approached, nodding towards it.

"What part of 'stay close' didn't register in your tiny brain?" Negaduck growled.

"I figured a blue box appearing out of thin air kind of made the rules null and void," Max said, glancing at Negaduck. There was an apology in his gaze, but it went unvoiced as he looked back toward the box.

" _Nothing_ makes my rules null and void," Negaduck muttered, flicking off the safety on his pistol.

"Okay," Max said before moving his spear to his left hand, reaching out, and knocking on the door.

"Are you _completely_ stupid?" Negaduck snapped, yanking Max behind him.

"Well, we won't get any answers by standing here," Max pointed out, regaining his footing and readying for an attack, his shield held at Negaduck's side.

"If I die from whatever is about to come out of this door," Negaduck said, "I _will_ kill you, Max Goof."

The door opened.

And a Drake Mallard popped his head out, a wide smile spread across his beak. "Hello!" he said cheerily. But he soon realized he had weapons pointed at him because he threw his hands up into the air, his eyebrows rocketing upwards.

He looked familiar. In that pinstripe suit and long blue coat.

_Why_ did he look familiar?

"You helped us find Gosalyn this past summer," Max said, shifting and coming to stand alongside Negaduck. "You're the Doctor."

_That's_ why he looked familiar.

"Indeed I am," the Doctor said, looking between them and lowering his hands slowly. Negaduck sent a sneer but clicked the safety back on and dropped his gun to his side.

"Why are you here?" Max asked.

"We heard about the attack from the Posiverse and figured we'd better show up before the third wave of robots arrived."

_Third_ wave?

As if on cue, the ground trembled beneath their feet and Negaduck spun around, Max doing the same.

Another robot hoard was swarming behind Darkwarrior and Ana on the horizon. Triple the size of the second wave they had only made a dent in because Lyn had disabled half of them with her watch.

"Shit," Negaduck breathed, checking the magazine in his pistol and feeling that weariness descending deeper into his bones. He was too damn old for this.

"You gents haven't seen Gosalyn around, have you?" the Doctor asked from behind Negaduck and Max.

"No, she—" Max cleared his throat. The new army of robots continued to grow, it seemed, all of them filling the entire horizon line. "She's dead."

"I am?"

...

It sounded so familiar, that voice. The inflection. Coming from behind them. From the blue box the Doctor had poked his head out of.

Negaduck made eye contact with Max, the kid looking just as desperately anxious as he felt.

Slowly, so slowly, he looked back over his shoulder the same time Max looked over his.

And there she was, leaning against the doorframe beside the Doctor. Bow in hand and a quiver strapped to her back. Wearing her streamline suit. Those endlessly messy bangs hanging in her green eyes.

Alive.

Resplendent.

And smiling.

"Well, that sucks," Gosalyn said.


	20. Joy To The World

Gosalyn had expected a lot of different reactions to her appearing with the Doctor on the battlefield. Surprise. Amusement. Maybe mild annoyance because of how extra it was.

But she had not accounted for the shock she now saw reflected in both Max _and_ Negaduck's faces.

Panic started to set in, constricting her airway. Why were they so shocked to see her? Had she been gone longer than expected? The Doctor had _promised_ they would come back to this specific moment. He'd said it would be like she'd never left.

A blur caught her eye and she shifted her gaze to find an endless mass of robots gathering on the horizon. Ana and Darkwarrior were standing in the front, both of them easy to find amongst the miles and miles of metal and chrome.

She had come back at the right time. She'd have to figure out why Max and Negaduck were reacting they way they were afterwards.

Right now, though.

Gosalyn stood straight as the Doctor threw open both doors of the TARDIS. She turned and called, "Showtime!" into the depths of the ship, her voice echoing down the endless halls and corridors.

Reaching back, she grabbed out an arrow and turned to face the battlefield once more. Aiming for Ana, she fired.

The arrow sailed perfectly toward its target, past the piles of broken and slaughtered robots. As it made contact, the net deployed, capturing not only Ana in its threads, but also Darkwarrior.

As they toppled to the ground, the robots started soaring towards her, some of the Posiverse chrome bots also taking flight with flames jetting out of their boots while the rest wheeled over their fallen brethren.

But Gosalyn hadn't come unprepared.

A horse cantered to Gosalyn's side and she glanced up.

Drake Cartwright peered down at her from the saddle with a smirk on his beak. "Need a ride?" he drawled, his blue eyes sparkling under his black Stetson and he leaned down, offering his hand.

Gosalyn grabbed ahold, climbing up onto the horse. Drake urged Sport, the sorrel thoroughbred, into a gallop and they tore onto the battlefield.

Readying another arrow, Gosalyn glanced backwards and couldn't suppress her grin as her army came pouring out of the TARDIS. Drake Mallards of all shapes and sizes from across the multiverse were spilling out of the spaceship that was bigger on the inside. A few Gosalyn's were amongst the ranks, a few Launchpad's and Max's. Even a Scrooge McDuck or two.

Here to do battle against the Posiverse.

"Everyone's comms are active," came Tony Mallard's voice in Gosalyn's ear. She looked up and there he was, a streak of red and gold armor glinting in the Christmas lights of St. Canard.

"Let's keep the chatter to a minimum," said Captain Launchpad Rogers.

"Cap's no fun," Tony muttered as he aimed his repulsors and took out two tanks and all the robots in between with one massive sweep. "What's a battle without witty banter and some mild flirting? Or, in my case, very aggressive flirting?"

" _Tony_."

"Yeah, yeah." Tony dodged a Darkwarrior robot deftly, hitting it with his repulsor and sending it careening down to the ground where a Drake, this one a dwarf from Middle Earth, dealt the final blow with his axe.

It must look weird, seeing all these universes colliding in one place.

Gosalyn and Drake were on a horse, shooting bots down from the skies with a bow and arrows. And they weren't the only ones on horseback, either; Dr. Indiana Jones was atop his own mount, brandishing a whip in his free hand. The group from Middle Earth were also riding horses, Drake the dwarf celebrating his first "kill" as his companions, an elven archer, a stealthy ranger, and a magic-wielding wizard directed their steeds out in a semi-circle to encompass a group of robots.

Most of Gosalyn's army, however, was running towards the opposition on their own two feet.

Drake Skywalker was wielding a lightsaber, his free hand manipulating the Force and taking out the bots that his lightsaber couldn't reach.

Captain Drake Sparrow was cutting down robot after robot with his rapier, his face warped into an expression of confusion.

Drake Potter shot off a few spells from his wand, felling a dozen robots with several careful flicks.

The Doctor stood beside the TARDIS and bent down to set something on the ground. He then drew out his sonic screwdriver, activated it, and waved it over the area. What had looked like a small action figure grew to its standard size within seconds: a full-sized dragon named Draco. Shaking himself like a dog after a bath, Draco took to the skies with a deafening roar, grabbing a tank in one of his claws as fire shot from his mouth, the flames enveloping a few more tanks and a slew of robots.

And there were more multiverse travelers in their army. Hundreds of them. Blurring together as they took to the battlefield and fought the invading Posiverse and Darkwarrior armies.

Gosalyn aimed her arrow at a black robot that was flying towards her and Drake, hitting it right between the eyes. The acid disintegrated its circuitry in seconds and it crashed to the ground. Sport reared and Drake leaned into the movement, holding onto the reins to keep his seat. Gosalyn had far less grace on horseback and gripped onto him desperately, nearly thrown off.

As Sport clattered back to the ground, shaking his head and prancing nervously, Gosalyn said, "I think I'll continue on foot."

Drake pat Sport on the neck, effectively calming the horse so Gosalyn could slide off. Grabbing a gun out of its holster, Drake brought the barrel to his hat in a salute before urging Sport onward and shooting more bots from the sky.

Gosalyn reached back for another arrow and nocked it, looking around for her next target.

Megavolt from the Duckvengers universe was doing a number on the flying bots, sending huge bolts of lightning straight through their armor, downing large groups at a time. Tony was shooting at the robots with his repulsors as Draco ripped more from the heavens, claws and teeth and fire easily overpowering them.

Okay, so maybe she'd gone a _little_ overboard with how much help she'd brought back. But Ana had caught her unawares once; Gosalyn didn't want to underestimate her again.

She took aim and fired off an taser arrow at an incoming Darkwarrior bot, which jolted and spasmed before collapsing to the ground. Grabbing an exploding arrow, Gosalyn spun around and fired at a small cluster of robots that had broken free from the Middle Earth group and were attempting escape.

Reaching back for a new arrow, Gosalyn searched for Ana or Darkwarrior. Both were still tightly ensconced in the netting she'd trapped them in earlier, Ana screaming something into a radio and Darkwarrior merely watching the proceedings with mild interest. Gosalyn wasn't sure if his lack of fighting was a good or a bad thing, but it put her on edge.

A bot slammed into her side. She jammed a putty arrow into the neck of the thing as she fell. The gelatinous goo poured into and around the bot's armor, easily incapacitating it.

And it toppled over.

Right behind her.

She'd be crushed underneath the hull if she didn't roll away the _second_ she hit the ground...

Something grabbed ahold of her right arm. Gripping her tight and yanking her away. She held on with equal ferocity to whatever it was as she was pulled away from the bot.

Stumbling slightly, she bumped into whatever had taken ahold of her, and once she regained her footing, she turned to look up at her savior.

And came face to face with Max, his spear cast aside as he held onto her.

God, it was good to see him again.

It had been so long and she'd ached at the loss of him.

Gosalyn smiled, opening her beak to say something super witty and romantic, but she never got the chance.

He wrapped his left arm around her, brought up his free hand to cup her cheek, and captured her in a kiss. She eagerly returned it, threading her fingers in his hair, and reveling at the nearness of him. How her body curved up into his.

Max pulled away, tears brimming in those big brown eyes. "I thought I'd lost you," he said softly, thumb skimming over her feathers.

Max's words from earlier echoed in her mind. " _No, she— She's dead."_

Why had he thought that?

The Doctor had brought her back on time.

The battle was still raging.

Not a single day had passed.

For them.

For her it had been well over a year, but time travel, you know.

No one should have been worried that she was gone. Sure, Ana had probably bragged about the attempted murder, but there hadn't been a body. She hadn't _actually_ been murdered.

But the grip Max was holding her in was a little too tight. The way his eyes raked over her features, the tears now trekking down his cheeks, sent alarm bells clanging through her.

Something horrible must have happened to make him think he would never see her again.

But she could figure that out later.

Gosalyn smiled up at him gently. Rocking up on her toes to kiss his cheek, she ran her hand down the back of his neck, her fingers mingling with the base of his hair. "I'm right here."

Releasing a sound that was half sob, half whimper, Max wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her neck, his grip around her ironclad. Gosalyn stroked his hair, her chin perched on his shoulder as she wrapped her other arm around him. She still had a hold on her bow, and it was now resting along Max's spine, but he didn't seem to care.

He held on to her, breathing deeply and caressing the small of her back.

Until a voice called, "Break it up, lovebirds."

Gosalyn detangled herself from Max and sent a smile up to Tony, who was hovering nearby, his visor retracted to show his face, which held none of the irritation that his voice did.

Max stepped back, slowly loosening his grip and looking up at the newcomer.

Tony squinted down at him. "You are new."

"Max," he said weakly, bringing up a hand to wipe away the tears on his cheeks.

"Ah," said Tony, his features softening further as he realized who, exactly, this was, "the famed Max Goof. I've heard mostly good things about you."

"They're all lies," Max said.

Tony barked a laugh before activating his helmet so it snapped firmly back in place. Through the voice modulator, he said, "Look alive, kids. We're not out of the woods yet," and kicked his repulsors into high gear, soaring back up into the sky.

Gosalyn looked up at Max. "You good?"

"Yeah. I mean, probably not," Max said, gazing down at her, eyes darting all over her face as if he was still trying to convince himself that she was here. "There was... I... I don't know?"

Gosalyn pulled him back into a hug, saying softly into his ear, "We can talk after."

"Good," Max said, his grip around her a little less desperate, less constricting. "I'm not letting you out of my sight for, like, three weeks."

"That's a whole 21 days."

A low laugh rumbled in his chest and he kissed her temple. "I might need longer."

Gosalyn leaned back, meeting his eyes, which were brighter than when she'd first seen him. Caressing his cheek, she said, "Whatever you need."

Over Max's shoulder, Gosalyn caught sight of a Darkwarrior bot flying towards them, laser gun lighting up in preparation to take its shot. But Gosalyn was faster, pulling out an arrow and gracefully side-stepping to shoot it. The robot spiraled out of the air and sailed over them. Max pulled her to the ground, his shield held up over their heads and they watched the Darkwarrior bot collide with three others in midair, all four of them crashing in a loud shriek of metal scraping against metal, and then tumbling to the ground in a heap of broken and bent frames.

"Four in one shot, that's not too bad," Max said.

" _Not too bad_ ," Gosalyn scoffed, spying Max's spear and reaching for it. As they stood, she tossed it to him, and he deftly caught it. "I bet I can take out more robots than you."

Max's eyes glinted, a familiar competitiveness descending on his features. "You're so on."

He took to the challenge with vigor, swinging his spear and shield around like they weighed nothing. Like taking out bots left and right wasn't even a challenge.

His training had really paid off. He was a fully fledged fighter now. Negaduck had worked wonders.

Thinking of Negaduck and her father — whom she hadn't seen yet, she realized in a panic — Gosalyn spun around to look for the familiar color schemes.

She _did_ catch sight of some purple.

But it wasn't her father.

Darkwarrior Duck was now standing, a robot cutting away the netting that had encased him. Ana had scrambled to her feet and was still yelling into a radio as she wildly looked around the battlefield.

Gosalyn called, "Good luck, babe!" over her shoulder before taking off in a sprint to where Darkwarrior and Ana were standing.

It wasn't free and clear, the pathway to them. But Gosalyn had, unintentionally, participated in combat training over the course of the last time traveled year. She easily dodged, ducked, and shot arrows at anything that came remotely close to her or to others. There was even a totally cool move where she fired an arrow at a flying robot, dropped down to slide underneath it before it fell from the sky, and popped up onto her knees as she came to a stop, stabbing an arrow into another bot she came face to face with. Needless to say, it didn't take long to reach Darkwarrior and Ana.

The latter hadn't realized she was there. She was facing away from Gosalyn, looking between the ground and the sky, barking her orders.

The former, however, watched Gosalyn approach, his red eyes trained on her. He didn't even so much as twitch as she ran up. Didn't alert Ana. His eyes just flicked to Gosalyn's bow (where she had an arrow nocked), to Ana, and back up to Gosalyn's face.

And he _nodded_.

As if giving her permission to shoot Ana in the back. As if saying he wouldn't stop her from doing this terrible thing.

Blinking, Gosalyn pulled her arrow back and aimed it at Ana. "That whole trying to kill me thing was super uncool."

Ana stiffened and turned to face Gosalyn, her face twisted in fury.

Gosalyn aimed her arrow at Ana's chest as she maintained eye contact.

"I suspected you would be showing up again," Ana said, throwing the radio to the ground, the thing sinking into the dirt around the banks of the Bay. "Tell me, how did you manage to disappear out of _thin air_ as you fell from the First National Bank? I had all of your weapons and supplies. Do you, somehow, possess magical powers as well? Because I cannot wrap my mind around how you managed to escape."

Gosalyn didn't say anything.

Didn't move an inch.

Just let the silence linger.

Ana's furious expression turned positively murderous as she took a step forward.

Darkwarrior grabbed her shoulder, holding her back.

Ana's glared up at Darkwarrior, her beak opening to emit a low snarl.

"Since I disappeared, there couldn't have been a body," Gosalyn said. "How did you get everyone to believe that I was dead?"

Ana looked back to Gosalyn, her anger causing her to shake, her hands balled into fists at her sides. "Answer my question first."

After a beat, Gosalyn lowered her bow. Shifted her weapons to one hand. She reached down to one of the pouches sewn into the bottom strap of her quiver. Unzipping it, she pulled out the small multiverse transporter. The one Stellar had worn on his wrist like a watch. The one he had given to Gosalyn to hand over to Gyro in the hopes that the inventor could get him and Posiduck back home.

Gosalyn hadn't had the time to find Gyro.

And had stuffed it in her jeans pocket.

Then had gone straight into battle.

Gosalyn held up the transporter so Ana could see it.

Ana released another low growl and Darkwarrior's grip tightened on her shoulder.

Tucking the transporter away and zipping the pocket closed, Gosalyn said, "Your turn."

Ana scoffed, the sound harsh. "You think you're so unique that I couldn't find someone to resemble you in death? It's the holidays, this city is crawling with tourists. It was an annoyance, having to hunt someone down, drag them to the top of the Bank, and shove them off, but it was effective."

"You lied to us," said a new voice and Gosalyn had her arrow drawn and aimed at the newcomer within a heartbeat.

But it wasn't necessary.

Christine wasn't looking at Gosalyn. She was staring at Ana, who had turned to face her as well.

Christine stood there calmly, face serene despite the battle around her. "You promised no violence. Said we would bring order to this universe and nothing else."

Ana sneered. "Sometimes violence is necessary."

"It never is," said Christine firmly. "You broke your promise, not to mention the law, and we will be taking you into custody."

Ana laughed, a high tinny sound. "You can't hold me."

"I think you'll find we can," Christine said. "You're under arrest."

Darkwarrior grabbed a pair of handcuffs and wrestled them on Ana's wrists.

Ana's head swiveled to look at Darkwarrior. "Judas."

Darkwarrior stared her down, face impassive as he clicked the handcuffs closed. "You attempted to murder a Gosalyn. I hold no loyalty to you."

Ana looked between Christine and Darkwarrior as he led Ana away, her eyes bulging and a vein pulsing along her forehead.

Christine approached Gosalyn. "Do you think we can use the police station to hold her until we take her back to our universe?"

Gosalyn dropped her weapons to her side. "Probably. Do you need help?"

"Oh, I think we can manage. But if you could make sure we have a clear path to the station, it would be appreciated."

"Sure thing." Gosalyn saluted with her arrow.

"Thank you." Christine turned to follow Darkwarrior, hesitated, then turned back around to look at Gosalyn. "I am glad you're not dead."

Gosalyn smiled. "It looks like you're doing well with Darkwarrior."

Christine nodded. "I am."

"Are you happy?"

"I think so," Christine said, a faint line appearing between her brows. After a moment, she nodded again, the line disappearing. "Yes. I would say I am."

"That's all that matters." Gosalyn grinned. "Good luck with everything. Let me know if you ever need help."

"You do the same," Christine said with a smile of her own before she turned and followed Darkwarrior, who was marching Ana down the battlefield, a few Darkwarrior bots flanking them.

Reaching up to her comm unit, Gosalyn switched on her mic and said, "Darkwarrior and Christine are taking Ana to the police station. Don't attack them."

"I won't attack if they call off their robots," said a Drake. It was impossible to tell which one over the comm; there were so many and they all sounded similar.

"I think they already have," said another.

And it was true. The robots — what little remained — seemed to be shifting their focus. The Darkwarrior robots were flying in formation behind Darkwarrior and Christine. The Posiverse bots were the only ones putting up a fight, but there were so few now that they would easily be taken care of within the next few minutes.

"I'll escort them to the station," came Cap's voice, clear and direct as always. A few Drakes offered to do the same as two beeps sounded in Gosalyn's ear, requesting her to switch over to her private channel.

She did so and Tony asked, "Hey, kid, what's your 20?"

"I don't know," Gosalyn said, looking around and wondering which pile of robots or smoldering tank to give as landmarks. "Where Ana and Darkwarrior were. I'm closer to the Bridge than to the city."

"I see you," Tony said, soaring overhead and giving her a little wave. "Hang tight, I'm gonna send Darkwing and Negaduck your way. They're getting aggressive looking for you."

Yeah.

That made sense.

Because they had thought she'd died. There _had_ been a body after all. Ana had successfully staged the whole thing and convinced them that Gosalyn was gone.

What they must have gone through in the wake of her "death" she couldn't imagine.

Max's reaction was making a _lot_ more sense. She'd have to find him again and make sure he wasn't in shock.

"I'll stay put," Gosalyn said, tucking her arrow back into her quiver and pushing the button on her bow to collapse it. The string detached and coiled up, the two ends of the bow bending inwards to reduce the bow to a third of its length. Unbuckling her quiver, she set it on the ground and clipped her bow in place along its side. Standing straight, she left her weapons near her feet and waited.

Not for very long.

She saw her father first.

He emerged from between two large mounds of robots, dressed as Drake Mallard instead of in his Darkwing Duck regalia. Which was probably why she hadn't been able to find him earlier; she'd been looking for the trademarked purple suit.

Seeing him in his civilian outfit, as her father rather than as his heroic persona, caused tears to spring to her eyes.

She really was home.

Gosalyn sprinted towards him, blinking away the tears.

He swayed upon seeing her. For a terrifying moment, she thought he might collapse all together, but he kept his footing and leapt over heaps of destroyed robots, running towards her.

They met in the middle.

Drake slowed down as he got closer. Reached out and seized Gosalyn's face in his hands, his blue eyes raking over her features.

She smiled, tears cascading down her cheeks, which he wiped away.

Tears formed in his own eyes and Drake pulled her into a crushing hug, one arm tight around her shoulders and the other cradling the back of her head. Gosalyn snaked her arms around his waist, allowing him to tuck her head into the crook of his neck. Drake took a few deep shaking breaths, his arms trembling around her, before he finally released a sigh. All of his strength seemed to go with it, and he collapsed to the ground, pulling her with him.

Now kneeling on the ground, Gosalyn settled her weight fully against him and rested her ear on his chest over his erratically beating heart. Drake rearranged his grip and buried his face in her hair.

She closed her eyes, content to sit here for as long as he needed. Wrapped in the warmth of his arms, the familiar scent of his laundry soap lulled her into a sense of security she hadn't felt in the past 365 plus days.

Gosalyn needed this as much as he did.

If time passed, it wasn't in any sort of measurable amount.

But eventually, Gosalyn felt _something_ there. Something hovering outside of her father's embrace. She opened her eyes.

To see Negaduck standing close, watching the two of them but not approaching.

He was so awkward. Always standing on the sidelines, always observing and only jumping in when it would benefit him best. Which was a great trait to have for a mastermind villain. And a very stilted trait for every day interactions.

She understood why he was that way. The circumstances in his life that had led him to believe that he wasn't wanted anywhere until he'd been invited, and maybe not even then.

But it didn't make him any less awkward.

She loved him for it.

Her heart surged at the sight of him and she smiled.

He released a breath, his shoulders relaxing.

And he smiled in return.

She had long ago grown used to seeing that soft expression, but it was jarring to see it in such a public place.

Stepping closer, Negaduck bent down and brushed her bangs out of her eyes. "You ever die on me again, I swear I'll bring you back to life just so I can kill you myself."

Gosalyn's smile widened. "Double death is so much worse."

He barked a laugh and dropped to his knees, wrapping his arms around her and, subsequently, around Drake. "Jesus, Baby Girl, I missed you."

Gosalyn's smile grew into a full grin as she settled into the sandwiched hug she found herself in, her father still clinging to her from one side and Negaduck enveloping her from the other.

Having this moment where she was held between the two, feeling their heartbeats and their steady warmth despite the winter chill, did more to welcome her back to her own universe than anything else could.

Seeing Max had been like getting her life back. Energizing. Exhilarating. Invigorating.

But this.

This was coming home. Safe. Snug. Secure.

Time, once again, became more of an idea than a construct, and she wasn't sure how much of it had ticked by before something buzzed in Negaduck's jacket.

He sighed heavily and sat back on his haunches. Drake stirred, resting his cheek atop Gosalyn's head as he watched Negaduck bring out a phone from one of the many pockets in his suit.

Pushing a few buttons, Negaduck held it out for all three of them to hear and said, "What?"

"Negaduck!" came the brogue of Scrooge McDuck, harsh on the phone's speaker. "S.H.U.S.H. just contacted us. It's not Gosalyn. The body of the girl they found at the bank, it isn't her." Negaduck met Drake's eyes as Scrooge continued, "She might… she could be…."

"She's just fine," Negaduck said, a small smile on his beak as looked at Gosalyn.

"Is she down there?" Scrooge asked, almost breathless. "Have you seen her?"

"Hi, Mr. McDuck," Gosalyn said, her father huffing a small laugh and squeezing her tighter.

"Oh, lass," Scrooge said, swallowing hard enough for all of them to hear. "'Tis good to hear your voice again."

"Thanks, sir."

"We'll meet you in the Tower soon," said Negaduck before hanging up the call and reaching out to caress Gosalyn's cheek. He got to his feet and Drake pressed a kiss on the top of Gosalyn's head before leaning back, his arms around her relaxing. She sat up and saw him smiling down at her. They stood at the same time.

Lyn, Posiduck, and Stellar were approaching, as well as about a dozen Drakes from all around the multiverse.

Tony landed beside them, the ground trembling slightly with the impact.

"Hail and well met, my dudes," he said, his voice modulated through his helmet. He turned to observe the battlefield, but stopped suddenly. "Woah." His helmet retracted and he seemed to be staring at Posiduck. "Looking for your treasure there, Blackbeard?"

"Why does everyone keep saying I look like a pirate?" Posiduck asked as Gosalyn snickered and Drake grinned. Negaduck crossed his arms over his chest, looking incredibly smug.

"You _do_ look like a pirate!" exclaimed the Doctor, snapping his fingers as if he'd just figured out a piece to a complicated puzzle.

Lyn was also grinning, elbowing Stellar who was wearing a smile of his own. Max walked up, his spear and shield strapped to his back and Gosalyn's gear piled in his arms, grinning at Gosalyn.

Posiduck rolled his eyes and said, "Did I hear we were going to reconvene in the Tower? Because we should probably get over there."

"Aye, aye, Captain," said Tony with a salute.

Posiduck scowled and Tony said, "No, no it's okay. I can say that. I'm friends with a Captain."

"'Friends' is a loose term," Captain St. Canard — Launchpad Rogers — joked in his customary wry humor, walking up next to Tony and clapping him on the shoulder.

Launchpad — her Launchpad — scooped Gosalyn into a bone-crushing hug when he saw her, tears in his eyes.

Captain Drake Sparrow approached Posiduck, swaying close and slurring, "I think you look great, mate." He gave Posiduck a reassuring nod as he sheathed his cutlass.

Gosalyn smothered her laughter into Launchpad's chest as Posiduck looked down at his clothes, then to Captain Drake Sparrow, then back again.

"Well, now," said the Doctor, clapping his hands together as he looked at all the multiverse travelers around him. "Shall we reconvene back in the TARDIS?"

Everyone marched towards the TARDIS, talking amicably with one another.

Draco the dragon spread his wings, asking in his deep baritone, "Where is this Tower?"

Seeing Negaduck, her father, Launchpad, and Max all hesitate as a full grown dragon spoke to them, teeth glistening in the Christmas lights, Gosalyn stepped forward and pointed. "Second building in on the bridge."

Draco nodded and took to the skies, his huge wings flapping only a few times before he was airborne.

Launchpad, whose eyes were trained on Draco and his arm around Gosalyn's shoulders, said, "I can't wait to hear how you managed to find all these people, Gos."

Panic sliced through her at the thought of explaining not only her multi-universe travels, but her time travel as well. At seeing the dismay and pain descend on her father's features, watch Negaduck scowl and grow stiff, observe Max close off to process the fact that she had been gone an entire _year_ in what had only been a few hours for them.

She smiled instead and grabbed her father's hand as they made their way to the TARDIS. "Once everyone's gone home, we'll pick a day and I'll tell you everything."

Drake squeezed her hand. Negaduck and Max nodded. Launchpad smiled.

She wouldn't, though.

Tell them everything.

Not even close to everything.

Just enough to sate their curiosity.

She'd worked with spies and con artists in a few of the worlds she'd visited. She was much better at lying now. Hopefully good enough to convince her family that this had all been an easy journey that hadn't been full of hardships or heartache at all.


	21. When You Believe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I posted the longest chapter on the longest night of the year. Coincidence? Absolutely.
> 
> Buckle in.

Once the doors to the TARDIS were closed, and everyone inside — some multiverse travelers wandering down the endless hallways to set their weapons down or grab refreshment — the Doctor looked around with a grin. "Everyone in?"

A few weak affirmations rose up from the crowd and the Doctor said, "Excellent," before hitting a few buttons, pulling more knobs, then thrusting the ship into motion.

The familiar grinding noise filled the room, the gears above their heads turning and the lights in the center glass cylinder pulsating. Gosalyn smiled at how comfortable the familiarity of the whole thing made her. Settling in amongst her family, she waited for the TARDIS to land and cast her mind back over the year she'd had.

—…—…—…—…—…—…—…—

_The wind whipped around her, almost as if trying to slow her fall._

_But she cut through it effortlessly._

_Careening ever closer to the asphalt below._

_Turning her head towards the battle waging several blocks away, Gosalyn thought of everyone over there. How they would take this. She didn't care much about herself, though she certainly didn't want to die._

_But Max._

_Launchpad._

_Negaduck._

_Her father._

_They would be crushed._

_And it was for them, more than for herself, that she wished desperately for this to be different. That she had one last trick up her sleeve._

_Or that she could have said her goodbyes._

_Closing her eyes, Gosalyn relaxed._

_Awaiting the endless darkness to take her._

_Hopefully the impact wouldn't be too pain—_

Hold on.

Snapping her eyes open, Gosalyn reached into her jeans pocket.

Even with her fumbling fingers, she managed to yank out the multiverse band Stellar had been wearing.

Gripping it desperately, she fiddled with the buttons and dials along the edges, desperate to get it to work.

The wind was whipping her hair around her eyes, making it hard to see.

The watch started to glow.

Numbers appeared on the screen. Then changed.

But.

Nothing was happening.

Hitting the face of the watch with her hand, she loosed a desperate whimper and kept messing with it.

Trying to trigger _something_ as she glanced over her shoulder.

Her heart stopped.

The asphalt was _so close_.

Then.

It disappeared.

Gosalyn fell through a glowing circle, dizziness and nausea hitting her instantly as she passed from her world into another.

The portal closed almost immediately after she tumbled through it.

Everything around her blurred as she tried to get her bearings.

And she was still falling.

Sideways, from what she could make of the vague shapes around her.

Then.

In an instant.

She wasn't falling anymore.

Something caught her.

Bands coiled around her torso, gripping on tightly as it absorbed the impact of her fall.

And it grunted.

They.

Him.

He grunted.

"Woah," said the voice, slightly winded from catching her. "You're lucky I was testing out my boot thrusters today, or that would have been messy."

The world was still coming into focus.

She was still feeling disoriented and nauseous and more than a little hysterical from the realization that she had almost been murdered but had somehow — miraculously — _not died_.

But Tony was here. Tony Mallard of the Duckvengers universe had caught her as she'd fallen into his lab.

She was okay.

She was safe.

Tony had her.

"You know," said Tony, floating down to the ground and setting her on her feet, "this isn't even the fifth weirdest thing that's happened to me today." He kept his hands on her shoulders, blue eyes fixed intently on her face. "You okay?"

Gosalyn sucked in a breath, glanced around to get her bearings, and continued to breathe as Tony's workshop stabilized around her. The nausea sunk down to a sour ball in the pit of her stomach, lingering but not demanding. "I don't… I think so?"

Tony watched her for a moment, slowly releasing his grip on her. He reached out, dragging over a stool and sitting her on it before he moved away, removing the boots of his Iron Duck armor that he'd been wearing. "You have real good timing, kid. I have new arrows and a bow for you."

He walked over to a workbench, closing all the floating computer monitors and read outs. RATCATCHER, the first intelligent bot he'd built as a child, shoved a smoothie of what looked like motor oil at Tony.

He glanced down in disgust. "What are you—? No, I don't want that. Put it down. No, don't hand it to me, just put it— Set the stupid… screw it." Tony sauntered away from RATCATCHER and towards a weapons cabinet, which he began digging through. "You're a tragedy and I'm sending you away to the nearest city college."

RATCATCHER, a claw attached to a metal base, drooped with a long sad beep, the motor oil spilling out of the cup as he rolled away from Tony.

Gosalyn, breathing through her nose, studied the back of Tony. "Am I really only the _fifth_ weirdest thing you've seen today?"

"Maybe the sixth. But when you have a demigod, assassins, and a pair of super soldiers from the 40's for roommates, your whole scale for what's 'normal' goes right out the window." Tony pulled out another quiver, stocked with arrows, and a bow. He turned and set them on a workbench, sending Gosalyn a glance out of the corner of his eye. "You good, or do you want one of RATCATCHER's motor oil smoothies to take the edge off?"

RATCATCHER looked over to Gosalyn, the cup still clutched in his claw. She smiled at him. "I'm okay, but I'll let you know as soon as I need one."

RATCATCHER beeped something then turned back to deposit the cup on a counter. He grabbed a mop, cleaning up the mess on the floor, Tony's newer bots watching with beeps and clicks of their own.

"So, you wanna tell me how you wound up falling into my workshop out of midair?" Tony asked, walking toward Gosalyn and stepping over RATCATCHER's growing dust pile.

Gosalyn fiddled with the watch. "Ana tried to murder me."

Tony took in a sharp breath. "Start from the beginning."

So, she did. Went into the whole story about Ana's invasion on the Prime Universe with Darkwarrior, how she'd shoved Gosalyn off the top of the First National Bank, how Gosalyn had ended up in this room. Tony remained unmoving for most of the story, only holding out his hand for the watch when she mentioned it, which she quickly handed over.

As Gosalyn finished her story, Tony continued to study her. He allowed a moment of silence to pass before he stood suddenly and said, "Go to bed."

Gosalyn's head snapped up. "What?"

He looked down at the watch before tossing it onto one of the nearby workbenches. "Get some sleep. We can worry about the rest later."

"But they're gonna keep attacking!" Gosalyn said, all but jumping off her stool. Tony placed his hands on her shoulders, steering her to the small dingy couch in the corner of his workshop that he often used as a makeshift bed.

"Ana said there would be at least one, if not two, more waves of robots. We have to go back and help them!" Gosalyn said.

"We will. After you sleep." Tony pushed her down onto the couch. It was old and worn and she sunk right into the cushions. Without thinking, she curled onto her side, Tony bringing up a blanket to drape over her shoulders.

"We'll need reinforcements," she said around a yawn. "I don't know if the Duckvengers will be enough."

"You did great work, kiddo," Tony soothed, patting her shoulder. "Let me work on this for awhile. After you wake up, we'll come up with a plan."

"'M not sleepy." Gosalyn tried to get up, to push Tony away, but now that she was lying down, exhaustion descended heavily on her. All the adrenaline that had been coursing through her system was gone, leaving her with nothing left to fight with, no remaining energy. Her bones felt too dense, her muscles too languid, and her eyes wouldn't stay open.

~…~…~…~…~

When she blinked awake however long later, it was to see Tony flicking through holographic screens and typing furiously on his keyboards, eyes darting back and forth over several displays.

Gosalyn sat up and he looked over at her. "How you feeling, kid?" Tony asked, shifting his attention back on his screens.

"Less awful," she said, pushing the blanket to the far side of the couch and stretching. "How long was I asleep?"

"Few hours." He collapsed one screen and pulled open another. "Before you get all upset about not being able to help your dad, I've got my eyes on the portal Ana used to travel to your universe. Nothing has walked through it yet, but it looks like there are two more waves of troops that are gonna bust through within the next three hours."

Gosalyn got to her feet and walked over to Tony, studying the screens and unable to make out much of anything on them. "So, how are we doing this?"

"You're right that we'll need more recruits," said Tony, fingers flying over a keyboard. "Everyone here's ready to suit up as soon as I give the word, but those armies are big and it would take a couple hours for the Duckvengers to make some headway. So, I'll ask you the same question." He finished typing with a flourish then looked to her. "How do you want to do this?"

"I don't know who else to call," Gosalyn said, sitting on a stool nearby. "Everyone else I can think of who might help is in another universe, but that's gonna take too long, going up and down that staircase. I might be able to hit one more universe, but I don't know if it will be enough."

"We can look at travel options," Tony suggested, running a hand through his feathers. "I don't think I can build a ship in time…." He froze, hand on the back of his neck, and looked up at his screens. A slow grin spread across his beak and he reached forward, swiping through the display until the window he wanted opened up. Using both hands, he zoomed in on the image. "Lucky for me, a ship already exists. We just need to borrow it."

Gosalyn's eyebrows rose. She recognized the blue police call box that was the main mode of transportation for a version of Drake Mallard that called himself "The Doctor." "His ship can travel anywhere in space and time within his own universe," she pointed out. "I don't know if it's capable of multiverse travel."

"I can whip up something so that it can be," said Tony, scurrying around the table and heading to another workbench where he began sorting through tools and scattered machinery. "You get the Doctor here and I'll make it so you two can zip around the multiverse and bring back whoever you want to the Tower."

It wasn't a bad idea. If Ana was going to be bringing her own army to the Prime Universe, Gosalyn could get one of her own together.

"Any ideas on how I can get to his world? And track him down?" Gosalyn asked. The spiral staircase that led to all the other universes wasn't available to her right now since it wasn't active back in Duckburg.

Tony looked over his shoulder, that excited grin still on his beak. "He's got a phone number."

The number in question began to glow on the screen and Gosalyn sent a smile up towards one of the cameras in the ceiling, thanking Tony's AI, MORGANA, for her help. "You think he can receive a call from another universe?"

"Might as well try."

That was a good point.

Gosalyn grabbed her phone and dialed.

After a few buzzes, it connected.

"Hello?" came a very confused sounding voice.

"Doctor?" Gosalyn looked up at Tony, who flashed her a thumbs up as he gathered more hardware. "It's Gosalyn Mallard from the Prime Universe. There's a bit of a situation I'd like your help with. If you can spare the time."

"Considering this is a time machine," said the Doctor, "I can spare as much as you'd like. Where shall we meet up?"

"Um…." Gosalyn looked to Tony again, putting her hand over the mouthpiece. "He wants to meet."

"Give MORG his coordinates," Tony said, not missing a beat in his scavenging, slapping a few pieces of metal together and turning on his soldering iron. "She can open a portal."

Switching to speakerphone, Gosalyn asked, "Where are you at, Doctor?"

"A lovely little planet just outside the Cat's Eye Nebula. Very friendly people here, if a little furry."

"Exact coordinates, please, Doctor," said MORGANA.

"Hold on, let me see what the TARDIS says." The Doctor was only gone for a moment before he was reciting a long string of numbers. Almost instantaneously, a glowing colorful portal spun to life in Tony's workshop, closer to his collection of expensive cars rather than his workbenches. Beyond the portal, the Doctor was peering through, phone held to his ear and a smile on his face. He hung up the phone, disappearing back into the TARDIS and the blue box floated into Tony's workshop, coming to rest on the floor as the portal closed behind it.

The door to the TARDIS opened again, the Doctor spilling out into the room, dressed in a pinstriped suit with red converse on his feet.

Gosalyn had come across him when she had been jumping from universe to universe in her search for Negaduck. It had been one of her shorter adventures, his TARDIS technology was advanced enough to inform her that Negaduck wasn't in the Doctor's universe without her having to physically look for him.

He smiled at Gosalyn, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he walked over. "How can I help?"

She explained everything. From being kidnapped and taken to the Posiverse to Ana now attacking the Prime universe to her idea of gathering an army of Drake Mallards from around the multiverse to fight back.

By the time she was done with her summary, Tony held up a small circular device. "Slap this onto your console in that blue box of yours, Doc, and you'll be able to travel to any universe your little heart desires."

"Only if you want," Gosalyn said quickly. "I know this isn't really your fight, but I would appreciate the help."

"If one universe is waging war against another, what's to stop them from waging war on us all down the line?" the Doctor asked, holding his hand out for Tony's multiverse device, which Tony slapped into his palm. "It doesn't matter whose fight this might be, we all are involved." He looked at Gosalyn. "You have an idea of who could help us out?"

Dozens of worlds flashed into her mind, all with impressive fighters and combatants and she smiled. "Sure do."

"Then we don't have a moment to lose!" The Doctor sprung towards the TARDIS, flinging open the door. He looked back to Tony. "Are we bringing them back here to rally before we go to war?"

"I think that would be best," said Tony. "I'll get the Duckvengers up to speed. We can all meet here in the next few hours, go over the particulars, then head out. As long as we leave by, oh, 11:00 or so, we should be right on target to get to the Prime Universe by the time the biggest army arrives."

"I'll get everyone here by 10:30," promised the Doctor, disappearing into the TARDIS.

Gosalyn glanced to Tony, smiling. "I'll see you soon."

"Keep a sharp eye," warned Tony, walking over to another workbench and picking up a new quiver, full of arrows, and a bow. Handing them to her, he said, "I reinforced the straps on your quiver so no one can cut through them. Let me know what you think of the new bow when you get back."

Gosalyn took the weapons with a grin. "You're the best."

"I know," Tony said with a smirk. "I have a few doctorates that say the same thing." He winked at her as she stepped into the TARDIS, the door closing behind her.

It looked the same as it had when she'd first been in here. A large amber colored room that curved around her, small circles embossed in the walls. In the center of the room stood a massive control panel. Wires ran along the ceiling into other parts of the ship and all led back down into the rounded top of said control panel. From beneath the bulbous top stretched a long thin glass tube, a greenish blue glowing underneath the glass. The tube connected into the base that curved outward, different knobs and levers and buttons set into the paneling all around its surface.

The Doctor was sprinting around the console, pushing buttons and pulling levers. Tony's circular multiverse traveling device was plugged into one of the ports, glowing a bright blue.

"Need any help?" Gosalyn asked as she strapped her new quiver on.

The Doctor spun to study her for a moment before he beckoned her over. "Pull this lever when I say so."

She took up her station, watching as the Doctor continued to run around, pushing more buttons and flipping switches. "Now, set your other hand on the panel in front of you," he instructed.

Gosalyn did as she was told, the panel glowing beneath her fingers.

"All right," said the Doctor, pushing a few more buttons and looking up at the glass cylinder, "think of where you'd like to go."

Thinking it might help Tony to have another scientist to take some of the load off of the multiverse travel details, Gosalyn thought of Dr. Drake Brown.

"Pull the lever," said the Doctor, a smile on his face.

She did.

And the TARDIS took off, or so she assumed. The ship didn't move much beneath their feet, but the sound of gears grinding together echoed throughout the room before there was a dull thud and the noise stopped.

The Doctor made his way to the front door. Grabbing the handle, he looked over his shoulder at Gosalyn, excitement shining from his eyes. "Let's see how well that worked."

And he opened the door.

The new universe was dark and stormy. Through the sheets of rain, she caught sight of a car turned upside down, the wheels in the air and the cab crushed.

Wondering if Dr. Brown was in trouble, she stepped out into the rain, the Doctor on her heels. She started to make her way towards the car when the ground shook, both of them losing their balance. As she fell to her knees, Gosalyn glanced behind her to ascertain the threat.

Her beak dropped open in amazement.

A T-Rex stomped up, bending down and swallowing the TARDIS whole.

"Not good not good," the Doctor muttered as his ship disappeared from view.

A moment later, a hand was clamped over Gosalyn's beak and someone whispered in her ear, "Don't move. He can't see us if we don't move."

Hoping this voice knew what he was talking about, Gosalyn held still as the T-Rex approached, his head bent low and nostrils flaring. The beast exhaled, a huge wave of warm breath hitting her. Every instinct was screaming to run, to grab her weapons and try to defend herself, but the arm around her was firm, holding her in place.

The T-Rex seemed to lose interest, though, because it stood up to its full height and roared, the earth around them shuddering, before it stomped away into the jungle.

As soon as its tail had disappeared into the trees, whoever had been holding onto them released his grip and Gosalyn gulped in deep breaths, looking over at the Doctor.

He, too, looked at her. "Well, that complicates things."

"Where did you two come from?" the stranger said.

Gosalyn looked over to see a Drake Mallard, wearing a fedora and a blue button down shirt that was soaked through from the rain. Whether it was a version of her father or Negaduck still remained to be seen.

"That's a bit of a long story," said the Doctor, standing up and pulling out a small thin device from his suit pocket. He spun in a circle, the device lighting up on one end and emitting a strange noise. "We're looking for someone."

"I don't know who," said Gosalyn, getting to her feet.

"What do you mean you don't know who?" the Doctor asked, looking at her, the device in his hand quieting as the light extinguished. "The TARDIS followed your directions."

"I don't know where we are! I've never been here before!"

The Doctor studied her before nodding and activating his device again. "Sounds like we need to make a few adjustments to the navigation system. Once we find the T-Rex and get the TARDIS back."

"Are you out of your mind?" the Drake Mallard said, also standing and putting his hands on his hips. "That's one of the foremost predators in all of history and you're going to go after it?"

"It has my ship," the Doctor said with a shrug. He glanced at the small gadget in his hand. "Are we near Costa Rica?"

"Yeah," huffed the Drake Mallard, still looking somewhat incredulous. "John McDuck bought this island to create a dinosaur theme park. I'm supposed to endorse it, but he won't get any positive reviews from me after this," he motioned to the toppled car.

Now that Gosalyn was getting her bearings, and didn't have a monstrous reptilian predator focused on her, she could make out huge stone pillars through the rain, all connected by electric wires. Sort of like an animal enclosure. _A dinosaur theme park._

"Are there more dinosaurs here?" Gosalyn asked, looking back at the Drake Mallard.

He nodded. "A lot more. Now, you may have ideas about going after the T-Rex, but I'm heading back to the main building and see if we can find more people."

"We?" Gosalyn asked.

The Drake Mallard motioned back towards the car and, right on cue, three small heads poked out from behind it. Younger versions of Huey, Dewey, and Louie. Gosalyn's affection for her friends grew as she eyed them as small ducklings.

The Drake Mallard sighed as he came up to stand beside Gosalyn. "I'm sure their uncle's worried sick about them."

She nodded and glanced at him. "We'll help you."

The Drake Mallard eyed her before sticking out a hand. "Dr. Drake Grant."

She grabbed his hand and shook it with a smile. "I'm Gosalyn. This is the Doctor."

"Yes, hi, hello," said the Doctor, walking around with his light up mechanism. "Everyone keep an eye out for the T-Rex, yes?"

They did manage to find the T-Rex eventually, and get the TARDIS back, but not before narrowly escaping different hoards of dinosaurs and a pack of velociraptors who were too smart for comfort.

Gosalyn and the Doctor piled into the TARDIS as the others in their party climbed aboard a helicopter, _Jurassic Park_ never to officially open to the public.

"Well, I guess we'll have to figure out how to fight with just the Duckvengers," said Gosalyn around a sigh as she took up her position at the console of the TARDIS.

"Why is that?" asked the Doctor, who was running around the console again.

"We have to get back! The fight's already started by now."

The Doctor stopped mid-stride and peered around the glass pole at Gosalyn with a grin on his face. "This is a time machine. We can take as long as we want and show up whenever we need to. We could even be early. Now," he pushed a few more buttons and flicked two more switches before he stood beside her, "let's try this again."

~…~…~…~…~

The next universe wasn't where Gosalyn had intended to go, either.

But it, at least, held a Drake Mallard who could come back with them and fight.

If he hadn't been out of the office when they went to enlist his help.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Jones is on an excavation in India," explained the university secretary when they walked up to the help desk. "But if you need to get ahold of him, I would be happy to send a telegram."

Gosalyn smiled. "Thank you, but I'll reach out to him myself."

Another brief ride in the TARDIS had them standing outside the temple of Mara where Dr. Drake "Indiana" Jones certainly wasn't conducting an excavation. Tourists had disappeared inside said temple, and he'd gone in to find them.

Last week.

No one had seen, or heard from, him since, according to his faithful friend Launchpad, who was standing vigil outside the temple.

Of course Gosalyn and the Doctor went after him. Of course they got caught up in the temple's traps, but they managed to find Indiana Jones. Of course their main mode of transportation was a manual Jeep that Gosalyn had to learn how to drive while on the run from the ghost of Mara because she'd never learned stick shift before in her life. Of course she stalled a couple dozen times in the narrow winding hallways that were lined with skeletons and snakes and bugs and rats, the Doctor and Indiana telling her to step on it all while she was wearing heels and a skirt because, you know, 1940's.

But they escaped. Of course.

And of course Indiana Jones jumped aboard the TARDIS to help.

He was their first recruit.

~…~…~…~…~

The next universe was just as accidental as the first few. But at least there were more potential recruits.

If only the Doctor and Gosalyn hadn't been arrested upon arrival.

A looming Stellar Mallard who was dressed in all black armor, including a helmet that covered his entire head and face, the outfit punctuated with a large flowing cape, pointed at them as they stepped out of the TARDIS, demanding, "How did you get aboard?"

The Doctor and Gosalyn exchanged glances, but couldn't come up with a good excuse before black armored Stellar had some of his cronies — wearing all white armor — take them into custody, saying, "They must be part of the rebel alliance looking for information about our base. Take them away."

As they were marched to their cell, Gosalyn managed to get a look out of the large windows only to see the gaping maw of space past the panes of glass. Any hope of someone coming to find and help them died until they were sprung from their cell by Drake Skywalker. Who was ready and willing to give them a hand with their own battle once the space station they were on was destroyed.

Easy enough. Gosalyn was a sharp shooter, after all, and the Doctor a fair pilot. One well-aimed missile took down the base.

Drake Skywalker brought his lightsaber and a connection to something called "the Force" when they dropped him off at Duckvengers Tower.

~…~…~…~…~

Fourth time was the charm, and Gosalyn breathed a sigh of relief as they made their way through the town of Hill Valley.

Dr. Drake Brown was a recluse who lived in a large house away from the rest of the town, so he wasn't hard to find. He was willing to help them, as well, his young friend Max McFly jumping in and offering any skills he had.

Gosalyn had grown used to finding versions of her father, of Negaduck, even of Launchpad, while on these trips. Seeing Max, though, was less familiar. And it hurt in a different way than the familiar deep ache she felt when she interacted with with versions of her family. This was more sharp and startling.

By her estimation, she and the Doctor had been running around for about a week. Maybe two. It wouldn't be too much longer before she was back in her own universe, alongside her own Max. Protecting her city with her father and Negaduck.

She just had to hold on until then. When they would all be together again soon.

~…~…~…~…~

"You help me get my ship, and I'll help you with your little scuffle," said Captain Drake Sparrow from inside a jail cell.

Gosalyn hadn't been sure about recruiting a pirate, but the idea excited the Doctor to an alarming degree, so here they stood.

"Can't we help you get you ship back after we defeat the other universe?" Gosalyn asked.

Captain Drake Sparrow scoffed. "How would you feel bringing me into battle as a captain with no ship, eh?"

Gosalyn massaged her temples, wondering if the Doctor had any medicine for the headache starting behind her eyes. "Captain is a title. It's given to you, not tied to a boat."

"Ship," Captain Drake Sparrow said immediately.

Gosalyn sent him a withering look. "To a ship. It's not tied to a _ship_."

"The _Black Pearl_ isn't an ordinary ship. And I'm not an ordinary captain. You help me get the _Pearl_ and I'll go with you. Otherwise, I'm content to sit here until Providence deems it necessary to spring me from this cell. Savvy?"

Gosalyn grit her teeth. Glanced at the Doctor, who was still looking like a kid at Christmas, getting to interact with this pirate.

Rolling her eyes, she said, "Fine."

_Ghost_ pirate ship with skeletons as crew would have been a nice heads up, but, hey. When you're as hooked on rum as Captain Drake Sparrow, it's a miracle you can string a coherent sentence together.

To be fair, he was an impressive duelist. So he'd be useful in the upcoming battle.

~…~…~…~…~

Gosalyn had started stepping out of the TARDIS with borderline reckless abandon. It didn't show much wisdom, but she was desperate to recruit as many Drake Mallards as she could in the shortest amount of time possible. She'd long ago stopped counting the days that had passed since she'd seen her home, the growing number making the pain in her gut almost unbearable.

This time, though, as she loped through the doors, she was nearly swallowed whole by a three-headed dog, who was snarling at the sight of her.

The Doctor managed to grab her and yank her outside the room the animal was in, slamming the door shut behind them.

"Who are you? How were you able to Apparate inside Hogwarts grounds?" came a familiar sounding voice.

_Familiar_ in that it was her father.

_Sounding_ as in it was a very young version of him.

Dressed in black robes with a crest embroidered on the chest. His feathers were a mess, he was wearing glasses, and it looked like there was a scar on his forehead.

"How old are you?" Gosalyn asked immediately.

The young Drake Mallard bristled. "Eleven."

"Was that a Cerberus?" the Doctor asked, pressing his ear against the wood and listening.

"Yes, and I think it's guarding something," said the young Drake Mallard.

"Brilliant," breathed the Doctor.

"Why is an eleven year old going up against a three-headed dog?" Gosalyn asked, crossing her arms and peering down at the boy. Which was so bizarre, lecturing her father on his own personal safety.

The young Drake Mallard looked up at Gosalyn, a cocky grin on his beak. "I'll tell you about it if you tell me how you Apparated in here."

It was a testament to how much she'd been traveling, how many bizarre experiences she'd had, that she shrugged and said, "Yeah, okay."

The boy's confidence dropped in an instant as he whipped around suddenly, eyes wide as he peered back down the long corridor lit by torches in sconces mounted onto the walls. A long four-legged shadow stretched out from a doorway and young Drake Mallard pointed at it, whispering, "That's Mr. Fluffy, which means the caretaker, Mr. Mortimer, can't be far behind."

Not recognizing the names but hearing the desperation, Gosalyn stepped up beside Drake and took his hand.

"You know what we have to do now, don't you?" asked the Doctor, looking down to Drake with a smile and taking the child's other hand.

Drake shook his head, gripping Gosalyn's hand tightly. Her heart surged with protectiveness and a bone-deep need to go home, but she just squeezed the small duckling's hand reassuringly.

"We run," the Doctor whispered before taking off, pulling Drake and Gosalyn along after him as he sprinted into the dark recesses of the castle.

Young Drake's full name was Drake Potter and he was attending a school for Witchcraft and Wizardry. His steely determination and desire to do good caused Gosalyn and the Doctor to travel forward in the same timeline (after they'd recovered the TARDIS from the room the three-headed dog was kept in). They found Drake again in his future when he was eighteen.

Drake Potter smiled in recognition when he saw them step out of the TARDIS, saying things had been quite boring since his last year at Hogwarts and he'd be happy to help them.

~…~…~…~…~

Hogwarts wasn't the last time Gosalyn and the Doctor came across magic.

A place called Middle Earth had history heavy with it. And its inhabitants weren't surprised to learn of another battle at hand, even though the location was very far away, and willingly lent their assistance.

After they all successfully walked away from a canyon city called Helm's Deep that had been under attack.

~…~…~…~…~

Traveling didn't come without consequences. Like getting sick.

"You're the best doctor that I could find and you won't treat him?" Gosalyn demanded, crossing her arms as she peered down her beak at the unshaven version of Negaduck, who was lounging behind his desk in rumpled clothing and tossing a ball up into the air.

"Glad your ears are working," Dr. Drake House said, his ice blue eyes flicking to Gosalyn before he focused back on his ball. "Would you like me to schedule an MRI since it seems there's something wrong with your brain? Not understanding simple phrases is a symptom of—"

Having had enough, Gosalyn walked around the desk and snatched the ball out of the air. Leaning down so she was eye level with House, she pointed the ball at him menacingly. "You're the only one who can fix him."

"I'm the only one who can fix a lot of people," House said, rolling his eyes and leaning back in his chair.

Oh. He was bored.

Well, she could fix that.

Gosalyn stood straight. "It's a disease you've never seen."

House scoffed. "There's nothing I haven't seen."

"It's affecting both of his hearts."

House's head snapped up to look at her. "There's more than one?"

"Which you've seen before, I get it." Gosalyn threw the ball back at him and traipsed out of the room.

She strode down the hallway towards the elevators and suppressed her grin as she heard House call, "Bring him in," from behind her.

Even though they didn't find anyone to help with their fight, Gosalyn did learn a little about medicine as House did, indeed, save the Doctor.

~…~…~…~…~

"I did not sign up for ghosts!" Gosalyn cried after learning the lore of the Hollywood Tower Hotel.

The Doctor clicked his tongue as he studied the dusty art on the walls, his sonic screwdriver out and scanning the room. "I remember you saying you didn't sign up for wizards when we were at Hogwarts, and you handled them very well."

"Wizards are _living_ people. What am I supposed to do with ghosts in an abandoned 1930's hotel?" Gosalyn looked around the empty lobby, the Art Deco style beautiful even in its decay.

"Start by saying hello."

Gosalyn sighed. Then straightened her shoulders and called, "Hello?" into the silence.

Two things happened simultaneously.

An earth-shattering crash resounded from the lobby elevator, the hotel quaking around them.

And a voice came from behind Gosalyn, saying a cheerful, "Hello!" which turned out to belong to a long-deceased bellhop.

The Doctor huffed a laugh. "Quite an entrance you made!" He gestured to the elevator.

The bellhop looked between the elevator and the Doctor, clearly confused. "That wasn't me."

Super didn't sign up for this.

~…~…~…~…~

"I suppose on some level, I knew you would return," said Drake Holmes as he welcomed them into his flat on Baker Street. "One does not get called in as a specialist for one case only to never be called again for another."

"So, you'll come with us?" Gosalyn asked, feeling supremely uncomfortable in the Victorian clothing she'd had to wrestle into. There were so many layers, and all of them stiff and unforgiving.

"Naturally. Watson and I will be at your disposal—"

"Great!"

"—once our current case is concluded."

"Of course," Gosalyn sighed.

The Doctor nudged her, a familiar gleam in his eye that he got when he was more excited about spending time in a universe than recruiting fighters for the multiverse battle at hand.

No matter who they met or how much time they spent in any given world, Gosalyn never lost sight of the end goal. Of the reason she was here. The longer she spent away from her family, the more desperate she was to return to them.

But a case with the famed consulting detective Drake Holmes and his partner Gosalyn Watson was pretty thrilling. Even if Holmes had the whole thing solved within a day, not giving anyone much of a chance to sleuth.

~…~…~…~…~

"Is this a classic Old Western shoot out?!" the Doctor exclaimed, looking over at them with shining eyes.

Drake Cartwright surveyed the Doctor silently before glancing at Gosalyn. "Your friend is weird." He ducked down further behind the bolder as another shot was fired, the bullet glancing off the top of their rocky cover.

"Yeah, well, he's excited," Gosalyn said, studying the pack of supplies that Drake had strapped to his back. She reached out and grabbed the rifle and a mirror.

"What are you-?"

"Stay still," she said, wrestling the items free and tossing the mirror to the Doctor. "Flash that over there." She pointed to one side of the rock they were all huddled behind.

The Doctor grinned and placed the mirror close to the ground, rocking it back and forth.

Gosalyn peered around the opposite side of the bolder, watching the cavernous landscape for any movement. What she got was even better. Two shots from two different locations exploded towards their hiding place. One from behind a mess of brush and the other from a thicket of trees.

Making sure the barrels were loaded, Gosalyn leapt up and pointed the gun at the brush. There was a faint outline of whoever was back there and she aimed for its shoulder before firing. She didn't have time to wonder if she'd hit her target before she'd reloaded the chamber and shot another bullet at the thicket, aiming for the long arm she saw outstretched. Ducking down, she listened for a second round of attacks, but they never came.

She handed the rifle back to Drake who was staring at her dumbfounded. "Who are you?" he asked.

"I'm Gosalyn," she said with a grin.

"I'm so disappointed," said the Doctor, standing and looking out over the dry expanse with a frown on his beak. "Shoot offs sound much more exciting in stories."

~…~…~…~…~

Gosalyn couldn't hold back her grin as she craned her neck back to look up into the eyes of the dragon that loomed before her. He was lounging in front of a waterfall, the water lapping up against his gold and scarlet scales. Dragons were always depicted as big creatures, films and books detailing them as larger than life, but seeing one in person was a transformative experience. He wasn't big. He was gargantuan.

"Listen," said Gosalyn, "we have a big fight happening back in my world, and we've been recruiting people for it, but all I want is for you to be there. I'm not exaggerating when I say I don't care who else shows up. You coming with us would be the coolest thing ever."

Drake Mallard, dressed as a knight (because he probably was one; this world was a like fairy tale come to life) scowled at her but the dragon, who called himself Draco, chuckled, the noise low and resoundingly deep.

"Why would I fight your battle, small one, when there is one brewing here in my homeland?"

Gosalyn scoffed. "Because you get the satisfaction of being a dragon — the only dragon — in this fight."

"I am the only dragon here, it makes little difference if I am in you world or in this one."

"I, too, am the last of my kind," said the Doctor, who looked way less jazzed about talking to a dragon than Gosalyn expected of him. "And I cannot impress upon you the importance of this fight we are recruiting for. It will, inevitably, spread from her world and into ours if we don't fight back now."

Draco considered them. His tail flicked once, a spray of water splashing up and he smiled, his fangs glistening in the sun. "Would I travel back with you in that tiny blue box?"

The Doctor turned back to look at the TARDIS. "I might have to get creative. Gos, stay out here and I'll see what I have inside."

The Doctor ran into the TARDIS and Gosalyn smiled up at Draco who grinned back down at her.

~…~…~…~…~

"Nope," said the Doctor, turning around and walking straight back into the TARDIS. "Nope, nope, nope."

"Doctor!" Gosalyn hissed, shoving against the door of the TARDIS before he could shut it in her face. "Where are you going?"

"A few hours ahead." He motioned behind them, towards the small group of people they had stumbled across. "I can't stand that man. But you'll be fine! I'll see you soon!" With that, he closed the door and the TARDIS disappeared with the customary grinding of gears.

Gosalyn turned about face to observe the small group gathered in front of her, flashing a smile and acting like it was perfectly normal to walk out of a blue box that materialized in and out of existence. The collection of children and their parents glanced at one another, distrust clearly written on their faces.

But a man sporting a top hat, a purple coat with elaborate embroidery, and shockingly messy hair burst from the group with a grin and a cane in hand. "Are you the teacher we've been waiting for?"

"Yes," Gosalyn said with confidence. That was what sold a lie, as she'd learned from her experience with the spymasters and con artists from her multiverse travels. You had to be confident, even if you didn't feel it.

"Your ward is over there," the man pointed somewhere within the group, "and now the tour can get started!" He clapped his hands together and sprung back to the front, leading everyone down the long hallway towards a doorway at the other end.

In the wake of the departing group was left a small angry Scrooge McDuck who couldn't have been more than ten years old. Gosalyn's breath caught in her throat as he thrust his chin up and surveyed her with those clever eyes.

"You're not one of my teachers," he said.

"No," Gosalyn responded, walking over to him. "But it seems like you need an adult to be able to go on this tour. And I guess I'm the adult between the two of us."

"The tour would be better if I went on my own." He crossed his arms over his chest.

"That's not up to you," said Gosalyn, resisting the urge to bend down so they could be at eye level. Scrooge would never thank her for treating him differently than anyone else, no matter the universe he came from. "You need me so you can go on this tour. I need to meet up with my friend who will, probably, be at the end of this. So, why don't we both do each other a favor and just pretend like everything is normal?"

"Everything all right back there?" called the eccentric man dressed in bright colors and multiple prints.

Scrooge eyed Gosalyn for a moment before calling, "Yes. We're coming."

Gosalyn smiled as they fell into step beside each other. "I'm Gosalyn."

"Scrooge," he said shortly.

She nodded to the tour guide. "And he is?"

Scrooge looked up at her incredulously. "That's Willy Wonka. There was that whole golden ticket hunt where the winners got to tour his candy factory? Do you not watch the news?"

"Not so much lately," Gosalyn said, eyeing Willy Wonka with trepidation.

She was nervous to find out why the Doctor had left so quickly. The tour would tell.

~…~…~…~…~

"Happy anniversary!" exclaimed the Doctor, setting a vanilla frosted cake in front of Gosalyn. She was sitting at a work table in the main library of the TARDIS, cross referencing all the Drake Mallards she'd pulled together and seeing who else they might want to recruit.

She glanced between the Doctor the the cake. "What anniversary?"

"Of us traveling together," the Doctor said, grinning. "It's been a year." He scrunched up his face and looked off into the distance. "Maybe a little over a year. That first trip to the dinosaur theme park is still a blur and I can't remember how long we were there."

Looking at the cake, Gosalyn didn't realize she had stood up until she heard the legs of her chair scraping against the floor. Until the Doctor was holding up his hands, palms facing her, a worried expression on his face.

"No," she said, studying the Doctor's expression for any sign of a joke. "No, it hasn't… it hasn't been that long. Has it?"

"The TARDIS keeps accurate records," soothed the Doctor, eyes glued to her face.

"I… I've been gone for a year? And no one knows?"

The Doctor blinked, something in his face going soft at her tone. "No one has felt the length of time. For all of them, it's only been a few moments. Seconds, even. Once we return, I promise no one will have realized you were gone."

"But I'll know," Gosalyn said, unsure why she couldn't quite catch her breath. "I'll always be one year older than everyone thinks I am. I'll have one more year of experience. One more year of knowledge. No time will have passed from their point of view, but I... I'll never be the same."

The Doctor reached forward, taking her hand. She gripped onto it, trying to pull in deeper breaths. Maybe her family wouldn't think she'd been gone for long. But what if, on some level, they _knew_? Could feel the days weeks and months she'd spent away from them? What if she was so different when she went back that they didn't recognize her?

The Doctor squeezed her hand and she glanced up to meet his gaze. "It's one of the burdens of time travel. Not many people get to experience it. I'm sorry I didn't better prepare you."

"I…." She inhaled a deep breath before letting it out in a big sigh. "I never thought about it from this end. I always saw it from the other side, where it only takes five minutes for something to happen. I hadn't considered that when you're on this side, it's a lot longer."

The Doctor nodded, keeping a firm, but not restricting, grip on her hand. "I've enjoyed our time, if it's any consolation. It's been nice to have you with me."

Gosalyn looked at the Doctor, really looked at him, seeing how his smile didn't quite meet his eyes. They'd been together a whole year and she'd never thought to ask the simplest question of them all. "How long have you traveled on your own?"

The small smile disappeared and he reclaimed his hand, stuffing it into his pocket. He gave a casual shrug. "A while."

Her breathing back to normal, her heart slowing back to it's standard beat, Gosalyn continued her examination of the lines on his face. "When did you lose your family?"

"Oh," the Doctor sighed, looking somewhere over Gosalyn's shoulder. "A couple thousand years ago. I had a daughter…." Here, he looked back at her, something heart-wrenching in his gaze as he glanced over her features.

"Did she not want to come with you?" Gosalyn asked, unable to think of a single Gosalyn who wouldn't drop everything to be with her Drake Mallard.

"No, I'm sure she would…. There was a Time War. Not many people survived." He shrugged again, his gaze traveling down to the table. He inhaled then brought his eyes up to meet hers again. "That's why we have to stop Ana. I refuse to have another war on my hands."

Gosalyn smiled slightly and reached over to her list. "I think there's only a few more Drakes I'd like to recruit."

"Are you sure you're all right?" asked the Doctor, keeping his tone neutral.

"When you have the responsibility of protecting people, you don't get to make easy decisions. You don't get to keep your head down. You don't get safety."* She circled the last names on her list, and handed it to the Doctor. "I signed up for this. I shouldn't be surprised when there's a price to pay. I just hope it's worth it."

The Doctor grabbed her list, studied the names, and grinned. He led them back to the main control room where he punched in a few keystrokes of letters and numbers before pulling the lever, the TARDIS kicking to life around them. "It will be. Protecting those whom you love always is."

Gosalyn waited until he stopped moving before wrapping her arms around him from behind. "Happy anniversary, Doctor."

He leaned back into her embrace, the fingers of one of his hands coming up to wrap around her wrist.

~…~…~…~…~

Duckvengers Tower had 93 floors. And it was practically full to bursting with the number of Drakes, Gosalyns, Launchpads, Negaducks they had scrounged together.

Tony had pinpointed the exact moment they needed to arrive in the Prime Universe, and everyone piled into the TARDIS, prepping their gear and grabbing the last bites of their meal.

"Good work, kid," Tony said, standing outside the TARDIS and watching as the hundreds of people they'd brought together clamored back inside. The Doctor was greeting everyone as they came aboard, showing them to different rooms and accommodations so the main control room wouldn't be overcrowded. "You got yourself a pretty decent army."

Gosalyn knocked her shoulder against his with a grin. "I wouldn't want to fight against me."

"Hell no," Tony agreed, glancing at her with a smirk. "You have way too much spirit."

A sharp pain lanced through her rib cage at the thought of her family, whom she hadn't seen in over a year. She was so close.

So close to helping them out.

To seeing them again.

To being home.

"Let's go show the Poisverse just how much," she said, tightening the straps on her quiver before following the last of the Drakes into the TARDIS.

—…—…—…—…—…—…—…—

She'd pulled open the door of the TARDIS more times than she could count.

But this time.

To yank the door towards her and walk into the familiar Darkwing Tower. To feel her father, Negaduck, and Max at her back. To see Goofy and Scrooge standing in front of her, expressions of surprise and delight mingling on their faces.

Scrooge said it best when he grinned at her and folded his hands precisely atop his cane. "Welcome home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Quote by Travis McElroy from The Adventure Zone: Amnesty arc.*


	22. God Only Knows

Darkwing Tower had plenty of space. That had been one of the reasons Drake had been so interested in it as a youngling; the potential for his hideout to hold everything and anything he could ever want for his crimefighting career was too tantalizing to pass up.

Not to mention that the Tower was situated high above the city, so it had great sight lines for any tomfoolery the villains and guttersnipes might get up to. And it was far away from people, which was ideal for keeping a secret identity secret. And from having to talk to them.

But right now, sitting in the center of his impressive Tower that had two levels and other various makeshift rooms built onto ledges and in enclaves, he wished he had a more space.

The place was _packed._ Several hundred versions of himself were gathered around of all shapes from sophisticated vintage types to the sleek futuristic, and in various fantastical forms (there was a _dragon_ [a _full grown_ dragon] which he suspected was a version of Negaduck by the coloring of his scales). He had witnessed this once before, when Negaduck had brought all the Darkwings to this very city in order to have them destroy it and each other. But his plan had backfired, as his plans had so often done back then, and the Darkwings had all worked together in the end to defeat Negaduck. So, it wasn't the fact that Drake was seeing himself replicated in any and all realities around him that was out of the ordinary.

It was that they had all gathered to talk about the multiverse and the rules that governed it. Like a war council in an apocalypse movie. Or Congress. (Or so he imagined; even as a fully fledged grown up, he wasn't really sure what Congress _did_.)

And Drake was startlingly aware this time around that not all the Drakes surrounding him were variations of himself. Some of those gathered — a good chunk — were Negaducks. And now that he knew the two of them co-existed in almost every universe, balancing one another out in the ultimate examples of order and chaos, it was pretty obvious who was who. He wondered how he had ever been naïve enough to think that all these Drake Mallards had been him. (He'd _definitely_ been arrogant enough, but that was neither here nor there.)

Everyone had settled around in a circle, some sitting and others standing. There were horses that a few Drakes were tending to. The dragon was lying down on his stomach, his front paws crossed one over the other. The Doctor was leaning against his blue police call box, hands in his trench coat pockets and looking at Drake Prime expectantly. Everyone gathered was stationed in such a way so they could see him.

He didn't know how _he'd_ been made spokesman, but here he was. Which didn't seem right; he'd been little more than useless the past few hours when he hadn't had Gosalyn in his life. Everyone should be looking to Negaduck, who'd so effortlessly taken charge in the wake of their tragedy. Or, better yet, everyone should look to Gosalyn, the best of them all and the one who'd brought them together.

But Negaduck was sulking in the shadows, a flash of red or a glint of yellow occasionally reminding Drake that he was still there. And Gosalyn was sitting with Max, instructing him on how to care for his spear and shield after a battle, rags, ointments, pliers, and small knives spread out around them with his shield cradled in her lap.

Eventually, the buzz of conversation died down and everyone in the room was looking at Drake. He stood in the middle of his Tower, wondering what to say. But with the hundreds of eyes on him, he straightened and, with a last glance at Gosalyn (still making sure she was here, that she was real and he hadn't imagined her coming back) he finally found words.

"Um, thank you all for coming. It was getting pretty clear that we weren't gonna win that fight on our own, so your help is appreciated. And, uh, thanks for helping Gosalyn and bringing her back. It was… it was bleak without her here." Drake glanced to his daughter again. She was watching him, her gaze steady and gentle, but her hands were clasped tightly in her lap. Like she knew. Like she'd guessed just how bleak it had gotten. Had realized how useless Drake had become. How much he depended on her and how, without her here, he was an empty shell of himself.

A few Drakes around the Tower nodded in understanding, their expressions downcast and forlorn, the memories of their own Gosalyns who were gone just as painful now as they ever had been.

But they were still able to function. Able to fight. Had answered the call when they had been asked to come help.

Drake had been reduced to nothing. His whole world had been decimated and he hadn't cared about anything else.

The Drakes who had lost their Gosalyns who were here were probably Negaducks. Because Negaduck had forged onward. Had fought to protect the world and the people Gosalyn had loved despite his own grief. He was stronger than Drake, that much was clear to him now.

That realization didn't anger him as it once might have. It didn't fill him with envy. It was a simple statement of fact. Negaduck _was_ stronger.

And maybe one day, Drake would be able to say he was equally as strong.

How weird that was, idolizing _Negaduck_. Seeing him as someone to aspire to. Drake could never tell him; Negaduck would be too embarrassed, too flabbergasted to take him seriously.

"What if this happens again, bugaboo?" Tony asked from his supine position on a sofa. Captain St. Canard — the Launchpad from Tony's world — smiled apologetically to everyone then tried to tug Tony up to standing.

Tony swatted his hands away, continuing, "Say there's another universe who gets the grand idea to take over someone else's?"

"Then we will answer," said a version of Gosalyn who looked like she'd walked straight out of a high fantasy RPG. She was dressed in a tunic belted at the waist, tall boots, and a long coat and was standing near a slender Launchpad with pointed ears and long flowing hair, a shorter Drake with a full beard and a battle axe, and a Negaduck in billowing robes and a staff.

"Okay, _yes_ ," said Tony, clearly getting irritated. " _Of course_ we'll fight again, I'm not saying that. I'm _saying_ who's gonna be the one that makes the call to go to battle?"

"We need ground rules," Captain St. Canard said, nodding. "Something we can all agree on as unacceptable behavior so we all know when someone is in violation and needs to be dealt with."

"Who's going to be the one to enforce it?" asked Drake Skywalker.

"And who's to say, over time, the enforcer won't become the invader?" piped up Captain Drake Sparrow.

An explosion of conversation erupted in the Tower, everyone putting forth their own ideas and solutions, some only conversing with their companions and others trying to talk above everyone else in the room.

Drake looked to Gosalyn, who was glancing around at everyone gathered, trying to follow all the conversations. He then looked to Negaduck, who was glowering more than ever, beady eyes darting back and forth across the room. Lastly, Drake looked to Scrooge, but the older duck only gazed back with as many questions on his face as Drake was sure were on his.

"Okay, okay!" boomed Tony, his voice amplified as he put the Iron Duck helmet on. Once the room had quieted down, he stood and removed his helmet. "We can come up with the rules of the multiverse together. As far as an enforcer, why don't we make it a checks and balances system? Three people in three different universes will keep an eye on everyone and make the call to step in if necessary."

"You seem to have an idea as to which three," said Draco, his draconic voice carrying around the Tower easily.

Tony grinned and pointed at Drake. "The main three." He then pointed to Negaduck and Posiduck. "They're the three anchors in the multiverse."

"His people just attacked this universe!" Drake Potter said, looking accusingly at Posiduck. "And now you want to put him in charge of it all?"

"I am not associated with those who attacked this universe," Posiduck said.

"Anymore," Negaduck growled. Posiduck looked over to Negaduck with a pained expression, the guilt clearly consuming him regardless if he was at fault.

"See, that's the beauty of having three of them," Tony said. "They'll hold each other accountable. Especially Grumpy Cat over there. He's super territorial and doesn't like anybody. Who better to act as a regulator?" Tony waved to Negaduck who bared his teeth. "And Darkwing Prime has been keeping an eye on Negaduck for years. It's a system that's practically in place. Now it's just more official. And we're adding in Calico Jack," he waved to Posiduck, "so it'll get even stronger."

Murmurs rose from the crowd. There didn't seem to be any outright objections to Tony's proposal. Not even from Negaduck; he was still scowling, but his head was cocked to one side like he was contemplating the idea.

"I know I like to toot my own horn," said Drake, a few scoffs, head shakings, and eye rolls traveling around the room like a tidal wave, "but I don't think I'm exaggerating when I say I sometimes help to keep St. Canard safe. And I can't keep my city _and_ the entire multiverse from danger."

"We could look after St. Canard," Gosalyn offered.

Drake looked over to her, those green eyes so bright and full of life that he lost his breath. He'd been so sure he would never see them again. Never see _her_ again. Never get to talk to, spend time with, or _anything_ with her.

J. Gander's, " _When you're ready, come to my office and we can discuss our bereavement policies,"_ and Gryzlikoff's, " _It is best if you remember her as she was,"_ still echoed in his mind like a whirlpool, round and round when his thoughts got quiet enough.

So seeing her now — just as she always was, ready to jump into action and so blissfully unaware of just how deeply they had all been affected — was both painful and reassuring.

Gosalyn glanced at Max, who was watching her. "Right? The two of us?"

Max blinked as if he, too, was surfacing from the darkness that had consumed them all for the few hours when Gosalyn had not been in their world.

But he recovered, smiling at her softly and saying, "After fighting a robot army from another universe, I think I'm ready to take on the villains in this one."

Gosalyn looked over to Tony with a smile.

He spun around in a circle, eyes traveling over everyone in the room. "Any complaints better be voiced now."

The gathered glanced between one another, waiting to see if there was an argument that would poke holes into this plan.

Drake had his own reservations.

How could he not, after seeing just how brutally his life collapsed without Gosalyn in it? How pathetic and unheroic he became? He wasn't worthy of this type of responsibility. There was no way he was the right choice for this.

Negaduck, sure.

Posiduck, probably over time.

Drake? A huge no.

Even being considered was expecting too much of him. What sort of peril would he put the entire multiverse in if something happened to Gosalyn in the future? If she was injured and hospitalized? If she, God forbid, strayed too close to death's door again? He would be good for nothing. Worse than nothing; his emotions would take over and he'd either be paralyzed by them or overreact and hurt someone.

Why wasn't anyone saying anything? He was ready to jump on that bandwagon, to agree that he wasn't fit for something like this.

He looked over to Scrooge, who looked contented and was glancing around at the other multiverse travelers with his hands resting on his cane.

Launchpad was wearing a smile and gave Drake a thumbs up. Drake couldn't help but smile in return; Launchpad would always be his biggest supporter. He didn't deserve Launchpad.

Posiduck looked panicked, his eyes wide. At least someone was on the same wavelength as Drake that this was a terrible awful no good very bad idea.

But Negaduck.

Negaduck was just watching him. He didn't look unsure. Or nervous. He met Drake's eyes easily, one of his eyebrows lifting as he tilted his head to one side ever so slightly. As if he was daring Drake to say something. To fight Tony's idea.

Or, perhaps, he was saying that he was game if Drake was.

In either scenario, Negaduck had enough faith in Drake to not immediately dismiss the concept all together. Believed that they could, feasibly, make this work.

And.

Well.

If Negaduck, someone Drake had come to greatly admire and who was highly practical, thought they could do this.

Then they probably could.

Glancing back over to Posiduck, Drake nodded. Posiduck visibly swallowed before nodding once sharply.

"Great! It's settled," said Tony, as if he'd been keeping an eye on the three of them to see if they would go against the proposal. "The main three Drakes will monitor the multiverse and the kids will watch St. Canard."

Scrooge walked up beside Tony, looking around at the crowd of multiverse travelers. "Now," he said, clicking his cane a few times on the ground, "I don't know how the multiverse works precisely. I'm unsure if our time of the year is synchronized between the worlds or not, but it is Christmas here. As I'm sure most of you are aware." Scrooge gestured to the decorations around the Tower, meager as they were.

"There's a hotel back in Duckburg with a ballroom that was prepared for a holiday party that was never used." He glanced towards Gosalyn and that was when Drake realized the annual McDuck Christmas party hadn't happened. They'd all been together to attend as a unit, Negaduck included, and they hadn't gone. Because Gosalyn had...

She hadn't.

Not really.

" _Is Gos…. Is… is she… gone?"_

She wasn't.

Drake was looking at her right now.

Breathing deeply, hoping more oxygen would slow his racing heart, Drake focused back on Scrooge, who was saying, "Before you all go back to your own worlds, it would be my honor to host you at Hotel McDuck for the night. Celebrating the season with everyone who helped save our world seems the least we can do."

Again the Tower was filled with murmurs and snippets of conversation, this time much more lively than the discussion of what might happen if one universe attacked another.

Tony, louder than the rest, exclaimed, "Oh, hell yes!"

"Tony, we should discuss this as a—"

"Listen to me, Cap," Tony said, turning to his version of Launchpad, hands out in a plea. "When a super rich mogul offers to throw a massive party as a thank you for your efforts, you _always_ say yes."

"Pretty sure those are the rules," said their Liquidator.

"It would pain me greatly to know we had slighted our hosts in such a way," said their Megavolt, a large war hammer in one of his hands and his voice booming. "I am in favor of attending these festivities."

"You don't wanna fight a demigod, do ya, Cap?" Tony asked.

"The Captain would be a mighty opponent," Megavolt said.

"I'm not endorsing... no, that's not happening, Megs. Honestly." Tony turned back to Scrooge and nodded enthusiastically. "We're in."

"I can give everyone a ride," said the Doctor, hitting his blue box with an elbow, the front door swinging open.

"I would rather not venture inside the box until I return to my own world," said the dragon, standing and stretching his massive wings. He peered down at Gosalyn, all of his large pointed teeth exposed in what Drake could only guess was a smile. "Do you want to fly with me?"

Gosalyn sprang to her feet, a grin on her beak. "I've never wanted anything more in my whole life!"

The dragon extended a foot and Gosalyn clamored up it and onto his back.

"Make a stop at the mansion, lass, and drop off your weapons," Scrooge said, to which Gosalyn flashed a thumbs up.

The rest of the gathered travelers meandered back into the blue box, including Scrooge, Goofy, and Launchpad. Max followed Gosalyn up onto the dragon's back, settling behind her. She waved to Drake as the dragon climbed to a window and took off into the night.

Drake took a step towards the spiral staircase, his instincts screaming at him to follow. To make sure nothing happened. To jump into the Thunderquack and fly beneath— Nope. The Thunderquack had been blown up in the battle.

Maybe the Ratcatcher. They'd brought that back. Could it keep pace with a dragon?

"Move it, Drake," groused a voice beside him. Drake didn't need to see him to know it was Negaduck.

He glanced back to his former arch-iest arch nemesis. "You're coming?"

"Tony made it pretty clear that anyone who didn't go was an idiot," Negaduck said.

"And you _were_ gonna go anyway," pointed out Drake, walking towards the blue box with Negaduck at his side.

"You can't prove that."

Drake sent Negaduck a smirk. He looked back over his shoulder, back towards the window where Gosalyn had disappeared. Large flakes were floating down past the sill. It was probably going to be a white Christmas. Something Drake could look forward to again now that Gosalyn was here to celebrate with him.

"She's gonna be fine," came the same gruff voice of Negaduck, but in a soft tone that Drake had never heard come from the villain before.

"I know," Drake said around a sigh, looking back to Negaduck, who was watching him. "But I always worry."

"She wouldn't want you to." It was Negaduck's turn to glance out the window. "She gets real mad when you think she can't do something."

Drake smiled, all too familiar with his girl.

He couldn't really articulate how grateful he was to have her again. How relieved. He'd always said he wouldn't be able to survive without Gosalyn, but it was now a proven fact.

He glanced toward the Doctor, who was helping the last stragglers find room in his blue box. Verifying that no one would hear them, Drake locked eyes with Negaduck. "Thank you. For keeping an eye on me after Gos..." He took a deep breath. "Thank you."

Negaduck shrugged. "She wanted me to."

Drake smiled. "Just because she wants you to do something doesn't mean you have to do it. People don't do anything unless they want to."

Negaduck eyed Drake dubiously. "Get in the box, dipshit."

Because he'd already made him uncomfortable, Drake decided to go for the big truth. "I'm really proud of you."

"Fucking hell!" Negaduck shouldered his way past Drake and barreled into the blue box, the Doctor pressing himself up against the doorframe to avoid being bulldozed.

Drake kept his smile on as he nodded to the Doctor and walked inside the blue box that was so much smaller on the outside. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is also not a traditional Christmas song in that it's not a Christmas song, but it was released in the Pentatonix Christmas album so it was fair game. And it fit super well, so.


	23. What Christmas Means To Me

Gosalyn released a sigh as she spread out on their bed in Scrooge's manor, quiver lying on the floor where she'd dropped it. Max picked it up and set it properly on its end wedged between the nightstand and the wall where there was no fear of it falling. He set his shield beside it and laid the spear on the floor, flush against the wall.

Where was he supposed to keep a spear? His hall closet? The umbrella stand next to the front door? This hero thing was going to take some getting used to.

"I'm so tired," Gosalyn said, grabbing a pillow and stuffing it under her head.

"We have a party to go to," Max said, taking off his bullet-proof jacket. Was there a laundering process for this? Surely it couldn't be put into the washing machine with his towels or sheets. He'd never considered all the practicalities of heroism.

Gosalyn groaned, rolling onto her side. "I don't want to move."

"Maybe we can arrive late," Max offered, draping the jacket over an armchair for now, "but we do have to go. Most of these people are in this universe because of you."

"Don't come at me with your logic and sense."

Max laughed when a pillow was launched at his face, which he caught easily and tossed back onto the bed. He walked over and took her hand in his, gently pulling. "Come on, honey. Let's change so we can go."

"Or, hear me out," said Gosalyn, her fingers tightening around his. She yanked him down until he was lying beside her. "We stay here."

Max hummed and pressed a kiss to her forehead, soothed by her warmth. His mind kept creeping back to the stark pit of her absence. The bleak nothingness.

It was nice to have her so close. To be able to have physical contact. Proof that she was, in fact, here with him and not a construct of his imagination. He'd probably need a lot of physical confirmation in the coming days. Weeks. Maybe months. Whenever he thought of her being gone forever.

Max used his free hand to brush her bangs out of her eyes, sweeping them away. "We still have to go."

Gosalyn's eyebrows drew together slightly and she sighed. "But we leave the first chance we get to come back here and sleep, yeah?"

Max knew Gosalyn wouldn't leave the party early. He knew she'd wind up socializing with everyone and would stay the entire time. Especially with all the visiting Drakes and Launchpads and Scrooges and even a few Maxs floating around, she'd be keen to talk with them as much as she could before they returned to their worlds.

But he wasn't going to argue that point with her right now, so he just said, "Sure."

She squeezed his hand and sighed again, making no movements to get up.

Max, too, wasn't in any hurry to stir. He was perfectly content lying here with her, memorizing the curves of her face while lulled by the gentle whisper of her breathing.

The words he had been wrestling with for months bubbled up in his chest, inching their way up his throat. They'd done this several times before, very nearly spilling out of his mouth when he and Gos had been out on dates and she laughed at one of his stupid jokes, or when she trash talked him while playing video games, or when she'd come home laden with groceries, saying his favorite candy was on sale so she'd stocked up.

Every time, he almost said them, the words sitting right there on his tongue. But it hadn't ever felt _right_. Like there needed to be some sort of fanfare and forethought.

So, he'd swallowed the words each time, pushed them back down until the magical moment when the planets aligned and it felt _right_.

Which was stupid.

There was never a right moment. There was only now.

He inhaled.

"I love you…." Max started.

And stopped.

Gosalyn — beautiful unassuming supportive Gosalyn — immediately said, "I love you, too," her voice heavy with exhaustion.

Max smiled and pressed his forehead to hers. "I wasn't done," he said with a light chuckle, his fingers squeezing hers. She hummed something, right on the border of sleep.

Max took a breath and finally _finally_ said the words that had been echoing in his head for so long. "I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

Gosalyn's eyes snapped open and she stared at him, weariness long forgotten.

Max shrugged, trying to come off as casual and self-assured. Even though he really wasn't. "I have a ring," he said with a weak smile.

"Oh, my God," Gosalyn said, sitting up.

Max followed suit, righting himself. "It's not here. I 100% left it in my bedroom at Dad's house. It's buried deep in my sock drawer. It's, um, been there for awhile. I've been trying to figure out the best place and the right words and, you know. All of that. But it doesn't matter. All that really matters is, at the end of the day, you're there for me to come home to."

Gosalyn was smiling.

And Max suddenly became very aware of their surroundings, embarrassment crashing down around him. "I could, um." Max cleared his throat. "I could get down on one knee if you… if that would make this more official."

"No," Gosalyn said, laughing lightly. She detangled her hand from his and brought both of them up so that her hands were cradling the back of his head. "No, I like you close."

Max bumped his nose against the edge of her beak, causing her smile to grow. "You haven't answered my question," he said.

"You haven't asked me anything."

Yikes.

He should have at least done _some_ planning, not just jump into this thing feet first.

Well.

Too late now.

Taking a deep breath, Max closed his eyes and asked, "Do you wanna marry me?"

Gosalyn kissed his cheek. "Yes."

Max grinned, turning his head to capture her in a brief kiss. He pressed his forehead to hers again, thumbs skimming over her cheeks.

"So," Gosalyn said, running her hands down over his shoulders until they came to rest on his chest. "How long have you had that ring in your sock drawer?"

"About a year. But I've been thinking about asking you since the day you asked if I'd seen _Breakfast at Tiffany's_."

Gosalyn sat back, her head cocking to one side and her eyes round. "That was the first time you met me."

It had been. When Gosalyn had strode in, not caring what was happening in the boardroom. Max was sure that it was his romanticism overacting, but he remembered the beams of afternoon light pouring in from the conference room windows and catching the orange highlights in her hair, making the locks positively glow. The confidence with which she walked had winded him. And those green eyes had sent a spark of electricity jolting through his being when they had landed on him.

He'd had issues stringing coherent thoughts together when he'd seen her. He sometimes still did.

Gosalyn had been, and would always be, the most breathtaking thing he had ever seen.

Max smiled slightly. "Yeah."

She leaned in and kissed him, her hands traveling up into his hair. He pulled her into his lap, and deepened the kiss, his hands splayed across her back.

When his mind started to grow a little too fuzzy, on the precipice of that point of no return, he pulled away and kissed her cheek. "We should change."

"Spoilsport," Gosalyn said, the disappointment in her tone countered by the grin on her face.

"I do remember someone asking me to leave the party early," Max said, nuzzling her neck. "And we always could."

"You keep that up, mister, and the only thing that party is gonna get is my condolences."

Max snorted before she kissed him again, this one short and sweet. She then scrambled up and walked towards their closet, Max following not far behind.

Within a few moments, they had exchanged their hard streamlined tactical gear for soft sweaters, warm scarves, and secure boots. Max draped his and Gosalyn's coats over his arm before grabbing her hand and leading the two of them down to the main foyer.

"How do you want to tell everyone?" Gosalyn asked, looking up at him as they descended the grand staircase. "About us?"

A fear unlike anything Max had ever felt descended upon him at the thought of explaining to Negaduck and Drake Mallard that he'd proposed.

Casting his eyes down to the foyer, he caught sight of the two of them, lightly arguing with one another as Huey, Dewey, and Louie pulled on coats and scarves alongside Donald and Daisy. Goofy and Launchpad had already gone ahead to the hotel with the rest of the multiverse travelers, eager to play hosts to everyone who had helped save their world.

Max looked back at Gosalyn. "I don't know."

They stepped down into the room and Scrooge walked in from the kitchen, his face grave as he typed away furiously on his phone. "Someone's broken into the money bin."

Max breathed a sigh of relief that the decision had been made for him and pulled Gosalyn into a half hug, pressing a kiss to her hair. "Guess we'll save it," Max whispered. Looking over to Scrooge, he asked, "Are you sure, sir?"

Scrooge's expression grew dark before he took a deep breath. "I'm sure, lad." He walked over and held out his phone so they could see video feed of the interior of the money bin.

Gosalyn froze under Max's arm and he, too, blinked to make sure he wasn't seeing things. Because it looked an awful lot like Quackerjack, Liquidator, Bushroot, and Megavolt were standing in Scrooge's office, trying to break into the bin. Quackerjack had a toy stethoscope held up to the safe as he spoke to Bushroot, whose vines were wrapped around the knob, turning it back and forth.

"Looks like we have a stop to make before heading to the party," Gosalyn said, looking over to Negaduck and beckoning him over. Negaduck walked to her immediately, Drake trailing behind. They both studied the screen, Negaduck's expression darkening as Drake looked between him and Scrooge.

"You got a back entrance to that bin of yours?" Negaduck growled, glancing at Scrooge.

He hesitated for a moment, but then Scrooge nodded. "There's a small hatch at the top of the bin."

Negaduck nodded and looked to Gosalyn. "Is that dragon still around?"

"Outside," Gosalyn confirmed.

Negaduck's eyes rose to meet Max's. "You tagging along, Romeo?"

Max's grip on Gosalyn tightened fractionally and she leaned into him reassuringly. "Yeah."

Negaduck just nodded as Scrooge said, "There's a security code to access it." He led Negaduck away, whispering to him furiously.

Drake smiled at the young couple. "I'll let you two take point on this one. See you at the hotel?"

Max nodded with a smile as Gosalyn extracted herself from his side to hug her father. She whispered something to him and he squeezed her tighter before eyeing Max.

"Keep an eye on her."

"She'll be keeping an eye on me," Max said, but he tried to look like he was worthy of Drake's faith in him.

"Let's go," Negaduck barked from the front door, which he was holding open and gesturing to the darkness on the other side, gentle snowfall swirling in the golden beam from the porch light.

"You can count on us, sir!" Max said to Scrooge as he followed Gosalyn outside.

"See that building on the hill?" She asked Draco, pointing towards the bin. The dragon nodded. "There are burglars inside. Would you like to help us catch them?"

Draco spread his wings wide, smoke curling from his nostrils and up around his head. "Oh yes."

The three of them claymores aboard, Max taking the front, Gosalyn situating herself one the middle, and Negaduck taking the rear, the three of them clinging onto Draco for dear life as he took off into the skies once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Hanukkah!


	24. Good To Be Bad

Negaduck could hardly deny it: he was as overly dramatic as Darkwing. The theatricality of this plan was just as thrilling to him as striking fear into the hearts of his cronies.

"I don't have anything to fight with," Max whispered, the noise traveling easily throughout the cavernous bin.

"Here," Gosalyn said, bending down and pulling out a knife from her boot.

"Do you _always_ have weapons on you?" Max asked, taking the knife and looking at Gosalyn incredulously.

"Of course," Gosalyn said, pulling another knife from her other boot and tossing it from one hand to the other. "That's Negaduck Rule Number One. 'Always make sure you're armed.'"

"Rule Number Two," Negaduck growled, looking over his shoulder at the couple, "is shut up."

Max's eyes darted down to the knife he was now holding. If the lighting was better Negaduck was sure he'd see the kid's cheeks reddening. Gosalyn flashed Negaduck the "okay" gesture and gave him a wink before tossing the knife up and catching it in midair.

And to think. They were the future of St. Canard's safety.

He wasn't sure if that was more frightening or the fact that he, Negaduck, Lord of the Negaverse and Public Enemy #2, would be policing the multiverse. Definitely the latter. Gosalyn had been training for this her whole life and had become extraordinarily competent at crime fighting. Max had a natural talent for combat; the finesse in vigilantism would come in time.

Negaduck, though. He wasn't ready for anything like this. Sure, he'd become a criminal boss for the Negaverse and arranged crimes for all his minions on a regular basis. Sure, he was used to maintaining order and enforcing his rules.

But diplomacy. Compromise. He wasn't built for that.

To Tony's point, maybe that's why there had to be three of them. Negaduck would fit comfortably into the enforcer role. Posiduck knew all about politics and how to fairly hand out punishments. Darkwing would definitely be the good cop amongst them. He, for all his faults, at least knew how to talk to people.

Sort of.

Not really.

Damn, they were all in over their heads on this one.

He should have spoken up when he had the chance back in the Tower. He'd been so preoccupied with Darkwing. Giving him a purpose, something to fight for even when Gosalyn wasn't around so there was no possibility of Darkwing ever going dark again. He hadn't considered all the ramifications. What this meant for him. All that he was now responsible for.

Something in the safe door gave a dull clang, which resonated throughout the bin. Negaduck crossed his arms over his chest and arranged his face in a scowl. Gosalyn stilled behind him, but she wasn't inactive, still twirling the knife between her fingers. Max, on the other hand, was completely still, barely even breathing.

The door swung open, light from the office spilling into the bin. The treasure below him glittered and sparkled. The faces of the Fearsome Four were gradually revealed as the door opened fully, their expressions of excitement immediately dying at the sight of him.

God, he loved this part of villainy.

The striking fear.

He was so _good_ at it.

"What," Negaduck said slowly, drinking in how their faces drained of color, how they shrank back, how absolute terror spread over their features, "the _hell_ do you think you're doing?"

None of them said anything, just kept staring at Negaduck as if he had materialized out of thin air before them. Which, for all intents and purposes, he might as well have.

"It was Quackerjack's idea!" exclaimed Megavolt, pointing at the toymaker, a spark of electricity flashing out of his fingertip.

"Oh, that's very nice," sulked Quackerjack, looking at Megavolt as he crossed his arms, his toy stethoscope dangling from around his neck. Clearly, he was the ringleader here. As he always had been. Negaduck had hoped Bushroot would have been made of sterner stuff to counter the manic jester, but it didn't appear so.

Negaduck was to blame for this at the end of the day; he'd been the one to push Quackerjack to return to toy making. He was probably looking for more funding. Perhaps Negaduck should arrange a few heists for him after the holidays (far away from Duckburg) so he could get the money he needed.

"Throw me to the wolves while the rest of you get off scott free!" Quackerjack bemoaned, a scowl darkening his features.

"None of you are getting out of this one," Negaduck growled, enjoying how his low voice resonated around the bin, the sound waves rippling down his spine, causing his own feathers to stand on end. He couldn't imagine what effects it was having on those four losers.

"But, since I'm out of my jurisdiction, Gosalyn has convinced me to let you all go." Negaduck grabbed his machete, using the blade to clean underneath his fingernails. "You won't see any justice here."

The Four all looked to Gosalyn, their expressions turning from petulant to shocked as they surveyed her.

"Happy holidays!" Gosalyn said cheerfully and Negaduck bit back a smile. God, he loved this girl. "Don't try to do anything else illegal, and I'll let this one slide since, technically, nothing was stolen." She glared at them, pointing her knife in their direction, the blade catching the light beautifully. "Right?"

"No, nothing!" Bushroot assured her.

Gosalyn shrugged, throwing the knife into the air and catching it. "Then I'm cool. As long as you don't do it again."

The four glanced at one another before all of them scrambled back, disbelieving in their good luck.

"However," Negaduck purred, "back in the Negaverse," he paused his nail care to glare at each of them in turn, "where I'm in charge," he pointed his machete at them, "all bets are off."

Liquidator shrunk down until he was half his usual size. Megavolt and Bushroot recoiled and Quackerjack swallowed.

"Get out of my sight," Negaduck snarled, hurling the machete towards them. They clamored away, trampling over one another in their efforts to leave the bin.

Negaduck grinned as he went to yank out his machete from the wall, where it had embedded itself into the wood. Hopefully Scrooge would forgive him that since his fortune was safe.

"Wow," Max breathed, his voice echoing. "That's more money than I ever thought I would see in my whole life."

Negaduck turned to look behind him, finding Max and Gosalyn peering down into the cavern of gold, jewels, and bundles of dollar bills. They hadn't had much light to see the hoard properly before, but now they had the full light of the office illuminating the innards of the bin.

A mighty roar shook the bin, Negaduck glancing out the office window to see the dragon soaring down over the Fearsome Four, who were scattering in all directions. They'd never plan a heist on their own again. At least, not for awhile.

Satisfied, Negaduck made his way back into the bin.

It _was_ an impressive sight, the huge myriad of wealth accumulated in one place. Negaduck remembered well how staggered he had been when he had first laid eyes on said hoard all those years ago. When he and Gosalyn had only just started their partnership.

What a difference these years had made.

He knew about the secret hatch in the roof of the bin and even had the combination to get inside. (He wasn't stupid, he knew Scrooge would have the thing recalibrated so that a new combination would be in place tomorrow.)

He was standing inside the very vault that all criminals only dreamed of seeing. It was the Everest of the criminal underbelly. What's more, he, _Negaduck_ , had Scrooge McDuck's blessing to be here.

Stepping closer to the edge of the platform, he, too, looked down at the wealth accumulated below as he sheathed his machete.

It had grown since he'd been here last. The gold coins glinted enticingly, warmed by the light filtering in from the office behind him. Rare jewels sparkled, the refracted light projected around them in a multi-colored kaleidoscope. There were wads of cash lying in piles and burlap bags that were filled to bursting.

Negaduck reached forward and gripped the railing as he leaned down, hungrily taking it all in. His eyes darted all over the chamber, expertly finding what pieces were the most valuable and calculating how much of it he could carry. Numbers flashed through his mind, the amount getting larger and larger as he analyzed how much a few handfuls of the treasure would be worth.

He clutched the railing, the cold metal biting into his feathers.

Then.

He let go of the railing.

Stood straight.

Turned away.

Reached out.

And wrapped his arm around Gosalyn's shoulders.

"Let's head back," he said. "C'mon, Max."

Gosalyn returned her knife to her boot before leaning into Negaduck's side, her arm snaking around his waist as he led her out of the bin.

"How much do you think this is all worth?" Max asked, lingering over the treasure trove for a moment longer before turning and following Negaduck.

Squeezing Gosalyn's shoulder, Negaduck softly said, "Not that much."

Gosalyn grinned, tightening her grip around his waist as she explained, "I've heard that Scrooge is estimated to be worth one multiplujillion, nine obsquatumatillion, six hundred twenty-three dollars and sixty-two cents."

Chump change.

Negaduck had walked out of Scrooge McDuck's money bin with the most valuable thing in there.

And the old miser would never know.


	25. O, Come All Ye Faithful

Over the years of attending the annual McDuck Christmas party, Gosalyn had gotten used to seeing all the finery.

The bright lights intermingled with the green of the Christmas tree, the garland, the wreaths.

The vibrant ribbons and bows that adorned every surface that could boast of fabric.

The full scale model of Calisota, Duckburg, Spoonerville, and St. Canard all perfectly replicated out of gingerbread and frosting and candies.

The towering Christmas tree that extended up towards the vaulted ceiling of the bi-leveled ballroom.

The fireplace that took up at least a fourth of the wall space, chairs and couches pulled up around it as flames roared in the hearth.

The wooden floors gleaming, warmed by the Christmas lights shining around the room.

But her multiverse companions were not prepared for such a thing.

Scrooge preened all night whenever he heard someone talking about how grand the ballroom was, how amazing the decorations were, how delicious the food tasted. Tony was the only one nonplussed, saying he had been to his fair share of holiday parties and this was all pretty typical; but he still glanced around the room occasionally, impressed when he thought no one was looking.

Everyone else was rightfully aghast at the extent to which this party was taken. But as the night wore on, people settled into the extravagance and into the spirit of the season, talking jovially with one another and partaking in the different offerings Scrooge had prepared.

The carolers that came out to sing songs of the season and the staff that catered the event had all been informed that the evening was cancelled, so the partygoers helped themselves to the mountains of food from the kitchens and poured each other drinks from the full bar.

As much fun as it was to attend a Christmas party with hundreds of versions of her father and Negaduck, Gosalyn couldn't help but feel some guilt over the fact that this party had been meant for others. Had been intended for invited guests from Duckburg and St. Canard and Spoonerville and other cities beyond. There were people who looked forward to this party all year long. And they hadn't been able to attend because Gosalyn had been thought dead.

She wished it could have been different. That people wouldn't have assumed that she was gone forever. That, somehow, her father or Negaduck or Max had known she was alive and safe and was coming back home. To be able to spare the heartache that her "demise" had caused.

That pang of guilt resonated deep within her every time Max reached for her hand and held on a little too tightly. Every time her father's eyes frantically searched the room for her. Every time Negaduck swept by, some brief physical contact to put his mind at ease that she was here. She was alive. She was safe.

Seeing all of this only cemented in her mind the idea of keeping her one year of time travel a secret. Those few hours without her had been brutal on each of them. What would they do if they had learned she'd really been gone for over 8,760 hours?

They were better off not knowing.

Those few hours would haunt them forever.

She didn't need to add to that.

Though it was a relief to be back home.

To be walking around in her own clothes instead of the time period specific ones the Doctor had given her from one of his many closets.

To spend time with the people she loved and not just shadows of them.

To be in a room she had been in so many times over the years she would be able to successfully navigate it if she had a blindfold on.

On some level, she'd always feared monotony. She'd always wanted to be different and never be comfortable, to keep challenging herself and seeing new things.

Which wasn't inherently bad, wanting those things.

But the level of excitement she felt in being able to go back to doing the every day repetitive chores like laundry or going to the grocery store or doing the dishes was unparalleled. For a year, she had been fighting to get people to protect her home. Along the way, she'd fought in wars and participated in cons and gone on adventures and thrust into life-or-death scenarios.

To be able to sleep in. Or order take out. Or just run out to get coffee.

Yeah. She was okay with that.

Even this, watching Scrooge and Negaduck play chess, was soothing. She was sitting on the couch with Max, his arm looped around her with her head resting on his shoulder. Drake and Launchpad were sitting across from them, watching not just the game, but the players involved for any signs of who would win. The nephews flitted in and out as other multiverse travelers snagged their attention, but Donald and Daisy were nearby, Donald and Goofy catching up on what their lives had held over the past year.

It was a ferocious game, Scrooge decimating Negaduck's pieces until he only had a scant few left. Negaduck didn't seem bothered by all the sacrifices he made; there were even a few times Gosalyn could have sworn he had moved pieces deliberately so they could be taken.

She knew very little about chess, but she knew a lot about Negaduck. And he was as calm as she'd ever seen him.

Suddenly, Scrooge smirked.

Reached forward.

And moved one of his white pieces in front of Negaduck's black.

Negaduck's eyebrows shot up and he glanced at Scrooge with a gobsmacked expression on his face.

Looking absurdly pleased with himself, Scrooge sat back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other and grinning.

Looking back down at the board, Negaduck leaned forward.

Studied it for a moment.

Glanced back up to Scrooge.

Reached out his hand, placing his finger on his queen.

And slid it across the board, saying, "Check mate."

The silence in their corner of the room was deafening as everyone who understood the rules studied the board while those that didn't know the game glanced back and forth between Scrooge and Negaduck.

The self-satisfied grin slid of Scrooge's beak when he realized what had happened as he leaned forward to look over the chessboard.

Then.

He threw back his head and burst out laughing. "Good game, lad!"

The chess board was re-set, Scrooge getting up to resume the role of party host. Gosalyn, too, got to her feet and began wandering through the guests again. Max had been right when he'd said they were all here because of her.

She managed to thank each of them individually for their help. They were all gracious, saying of course they would help or that they were happy to do it. A few said it was the least they could do after Gosalyn had helped them (which was true).

Tony just tweaked her beak and yanked her in for a hug, saying, "Anytime, kiddo. Bring your boyfriend by my workshop sometime; his spear and shield are pathetic. Gotta get the St. Canard crime fighting team up to snuff."

The Doctor only smiled when Gosalyn approached and opened his arms for a hug, which she immediately went in for. "You were a good companion," he said, one hand coming up to cradle the back of her head.

Gosalyn smiled into his shoulder. "Thank you for helping me." She stepped back and met his eyes. "Don't take this the wrong way, but please don't come knocking on my door again. Unless you absolutely have to."

The Doctor grinned and did some sort of complicated salute. "Scout's honor."

Lyn shook Gosalyn's hand, her grip unwavering and strong. "Hopefully I won't ever have to warn you of an impending army coming to destroy you again."

"Hopefully not." Gosalyn nodded to Lyn and smiled at Posiduck and Stellar, who'd been granted a pretty wide berth by all Drake Mallards all evening. "Thank you for warning us. And for fighting."

Stellar nodded with a grin and Posiduck went so far as to do a little bow.

Eventually, Gosalyn ended up back on a sofa with Max. Her father, Launchpad, and Negaduck were situated in armchairs nearby. The fireside crackled merrily behind them as they watched the other partygoers enjoy the festivities.

"You know," said Launchpad eventually, "even though our lives just got a lot more complicated, it feels simpler, somehow. Like this was always how things were meant to be."

Gosalyn looked to Launchpad and smiled.

"I agree, LP," Drake said, clinking his mug of cocoa against Launchpad's. He caught Gosalyn's eye and winked before taking a drink.

She glanced at Negaduck and would have tumbled right off the couch if Max didn't have a hold on her.

Negaduck was fast asleep. Contorted in an armchair in a position that could not be in any way comfortable.

Mr. Paranoia.

Mr. Always-Watching-From-The-Shadows.

Mr. Don't-Trust-Anybody.

Had fallen asleep in a public place. Which was a testament to how exhausted he probably was. Or to how much things had changed. Negaduck wasn't alone anymore, much as he might deny it. And it wasn't just Gosalyn who considered him family.

Sighing, she relaxed fully in Max's embrace and continued to watch the multiverse travelers enjoy the Christmas season.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas! I hope you've enjoyed your trek through Geronimo; it's been a pleasure to write it.
> 
> Now, I'll never say "never" when it comes to this series (it tends to find a way to drag me back in), but I won't be able to do much writing in the coming months, so this story really feels like a grand finale for the series.
> 
> I would like to send my eternal gratitude to Pharaoh and Mal, both of whom inspired this story. Mal with her genius idea to have Negaduck square off with a darker version of himself to show just how much he's developed over time, and Pharaoh for always being so positive and caring. Both of your theorizing and screaming about ducks with me has made me fall in love with all of these characters even more. I don't deserve either of you and am so grateful you're both in my life.
> 
> To AJ-the-bluejay and Bl3ramdomfandoms and Bookwormgal who comment on every single chapter; your constant support is so very appreciated and I cannot thank you enough.
> 
> To Smolgrump, Crazy-fangirl-10, Pastel-comic-dust, Amgehron, Trixifox, Moonraven_Sparrow, Jay A. Mallard, Mistyrainbow101, Sokudoningyou, and SelyneNightshade, your excitement for this series makes me excited for it all over again.
> 
> To Amelia, whom I owe so much of this series to.
> 
> Lastly, I want to thank you, dear reader, for deciding to try this series and for sticking with it for so long. Without you, these would be a collection of words on a screen, but you brought them to life in your imagination, and it's been an absolute honor to share this headspace with you.
> 
> Happy Holidays! I hope 2020 will be one of the best years for you and all of your loved ones!
> 
> ~Rebel


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